


Wachowski family Tails

by DoomFox



Category: Sonic the Hedgehog (2020), Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types
Genre: Adoption, Bullying, Cussing, Cute, Family Fluff, Fluff, Miles Wachowski, Teenage Tails, Tom and Maddie Wachowski adopt the special fox boi, sonic wachowski - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:26:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26510608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoomFox/pseuds/DoomFox
Summary: An alternate version of events where Tom and Maddie Wachowski find a small fox boy instead of a blue hedgehog, and take him into their home.Shenanigans ensue with the very young but extremely intelligent and curious space fox.
Comments: 50
Kudos: 109





	1. Give the Fox a Home

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to write something cute for a change and take a break from my usual fare of existential crises and trauma centred fics. I hope people enjoy it!

The orange bundle screeched as another crack of lightning slashed across the sky, the heavy rumble of thunder following shortly after. He curled himself in tighter inside his hiding space, desperately squeezed into a sodden cardboard box situated between dumpsters and garbage cans. Terrified blue eyes welled with tears as they scanned the raging black sky, rain pouring down in sheets, and he shivered with the wet and the cold. 

He cursed himself for daring to enter the town, knowing a storm was coming... but he had been starving, and had no way of knowing it could be this bad. His fur was sodden wet through, weighing him down, and even if he could fly... he was stuck in the middle of a strange town filled with people. He might be able to escape without being spotted by somebody, but even if he could manage that, he didn't fancy his chances taking flight in this weather. Lightening did bad things to airborne objects.

Along with the practical problems preventing his escape, his phobia had him paralyzed.

He was ashamed of himself for feeling such fear. Though young, he was intelligent enough to understand how thunder and lightening worked, just natural elements of the weather. But primal fear superseded logic, and his uncontrollable phobia never ceased to reduce him to a shivering, bawling wreck.

It was horribly exposed out here, the cardboard box offering scant protection against the rain. He wished he had somewhere warm and safe to take cover, like the big people did.

 _Stupid._ Not 'big people'... just _normal_ people. He wasn't a dumb little cub any more, and knew he was smarter than to think in such juvenile terms.

But it didn't matter how smart you were when you were alone, starving, and exposed to severe weather. He squeezed his eyes shut tight and whimpered in terror as lightning tore across the dark sky, the thunder rolled, and the rain battered down.

………………...……...…...…...…….

"Ozzy! Slow the hell down, boy!"

Sherriff Tom Wachowski stumbled across the street, sploshing through deep rivers of rainwater as his large golden retriever took him for a walk. The dog was ecstatic, panting happily as he bounded through deep puddles and rain soaked his thick yellow fur wet through.

Tom cursed at the sudden outbreak of terrible weather. The storm had to have reached its tempest within minutes. Did it really have to start slamming it down while he just happened to be taking his huge slobbery companion out for a walk?

Still, they weren't far from the station. The sheriff considered taking cover there until the storm had passed. If abusing his power as sheriff of Green Hills only reached to bringing his soggy hound into the station to escape the rain, he could live with that.

It was as he was hurriedly passing by a trash-filled alleyway that he heard the crying. It caught his attention through a break in the thunder, just audible through the hissing rain and wind. A child, crying in fear.

Tom adjusted the hood of his jacket, squinting down the alley with one ear exposed and straining for the sound again. Ozzy stood still, one paw raised, ears perked like a wolf scanning for prey, staring down the alley alongside his human.

"You hear that too, boy?" Tom reached down and gave the soaking wet canine a scratch behind the ears. "Sure can, Tom!" The dog didn't say.

He could barely head it over the rain, but there it was again, causing his ears to strain; the terrified squeal of a lost child.

"Let's check it out..." The sheriff said, leading his canine companion down the alley.

..............................................................

It was getting late, and becoming hard to see as Tom entered the confined space between the buildings. It took him a few moments to locate the source of the noise, but eventually he found what he assumed to be it - an overturned carboard box, squeezed between two dumpsters, within which quivered a small, brightly coloured figure.

Another flash of lightening brought another terrified squeal from the box's occupant. Unmistakeably a child. Dripping with rainwater, Tom ordered Ozzy to sit and wait while he dropped to his knees and peered inside the box. 

"Hello?" Tom called, attempting to make his voice audible over the storm but calm all the same, "You okay in there, kid?"

The orange form flashed him terrified blue eyes. Tom's vision, hindered by the rain and the dark, vaguely made out the small frame of a very young child, seemingly clad in some kind of animal-themed rainwear. Kid had to be scared stupid.

"Please..." the smallest voice Tom had ever heard as the blue eyes fixed on him, trembling with fright, "Don't hurt me..."

"I'm not gonna hurt you!" Tom replied, doing his best to speak reassuringly, squinting hard to make out the obscured figure. "My name is Sheriff Thomas Wachowski! I'm here to help!" HE considered for a moment, trying to bury his nerves. He had never dealt with this situation in real life before. "Can you tell me your name?"

He thought the child eased a tiny fraction, but they still refused to unfurl from their protective huddle. A few moments passed before the child responded. 

"M... Miles..."

Tom wiped rainwater from his face, struggling to see, aware he was being soaked by the downpour. "Okay then, Miles... are you lost? Do you have anywhere I can take you?"

The eyes seemed to ponder the query for a moment, before the head shook. "No..."

A lost child, in this damn storm. Looks like they were definitely stopping at the station.

"Okay then, Miles..." Tom said, leaning onto his knees and unzipping his jacket, "I'm going to give you my coat, and then we're going to take you somewhere nice and warm where we can take care of you, alright?"

Cold rainwater instantly began to soak the sheriff straight through to the bone as he held the jacket open, inviting the kid to take the extra protection.

"I... don't know if I should..."

"It's okay!" Tom replied, shaking his head as his face ran wet with rain, "I promise you're going to be safe, Miles!"

The kid seemed to consider their options, before eventually deciding to take Tom up on his offer. Tom squeezed his eyes shut as the orange-clad figure crawled into the jacket, sopping like a wet dishcloth. Tom quickly and carefully zipped the jacket up tight, bundling 'Miles' up as best he could, and stood.

Damn, he was tiny. He weighted absolutely nothing.

"I'm going to carry you, is that okay Miles?"

Curious eyes peaked out from the hood, the rest of the kid's face utterly enveloped as he scrunched himself into the protective clothing. He didn't answer until another whip-crack of lightening snapped through the sky, and the thunder rolled.

"Y... yes please..."

"Okay, just hold onto me! We'll be there in a couple of minutes, okay buddy?"

Miles nodded, desperately clutching the coat around himself. The cop turned to his canine companion Ozzy happily dripping in the driving rain.

"Come on, Oz..." Tom reached down and grabbed the loyal hound's leash with his spare hand, and began to trot in the direction of Green Hills Station while the tiny bundle clasped to his shoulder.

....................................................................

"Miles, this is Officer Whipple..." Tom said to the bundle currently scrunched into a chair in his office, "He's going to help us ask you a few questions..."

The kid still protectively clutched Tom's soaking jacket around himself, refusing to part with the rainwear. Blue eyes peaked out from the hood, accompanied by ginger bangs that trailed wetly over one eye.

"Hi!" Said Wade, a pen and notebook in one hand and a steaming coffee in the other, "You're lucky Tom found you when he did. Real bad weather out there, kiddo!"

The eyes swivelled back to Tom. "Thank... thank you..." the tiny voice trembled.

Tom grinned and approached the child, wiping rainwater from his face with a hand towel. 

"Hey, it's what we're here for..." the cop wiped his hair with the soggy towel and deposited it, reaching out to unzip the sodden jacket. "Let's get you out of these clothes and cleaned up before you get sick..."

The kid tensed as Tom slipped his jacket up and over the small form's head, blue eyes fixing on him uncertainly as Tom rubbed at his wet face again.

"Little early for Halloween, huh kid?" the sheriff quipped as he turned to place the soaking wet rainwear on a nearby coat rack.

SMASH.

Tom damn near jumped out of his skin as something heavy and porcelain shattered against the wooden floor. He jerked around in shock to find Wade leaning way back in his chair, wide eyed and startled as though he'd seen a ghost. The remains of his coffee covered the floor, seeping around his shoes.

"What the... HECK, Wade?!" Tom cried, just about remembering to censor himself before their much younger guest, "Are you _trying_ to give me a-"

Tom's words caught in his throat as his eyes flicked back to the lost child, and he understood now what had spooked his comrade.

…..........................................................

Big blue eyes, filled with shock, stared out from a sodden orange and white furred face, atop which sat a pair of large pointed ears that drooped as the... kid... gawped at the broken remains of Wade's coffee. 

"Oh, I'm sorry!" The small, childlike voice whimpered through a mouth filled with omnivorous teeth and pointed canines, scared blue eyes flicking between the two cops. Tom and Wade could only stare at the little creature as it nervously played with one of two bushy tails in clawed hands, noting that it wore nothing but a pair of battered sneakers.

Wade shot Tom a bewildered look. "Where did you find this kid again?"

Tom glared pointedly at his friend, before calmly approaching the little creature, hands raised, attempting to show he wasn't a threat. He looked into the big blue _human_ eyes and spoke calmly. "Miles?"

The creature bowed its head and drooped its ears some more, big puppy dog eyes looking up at Tom. "Y... yes?"

Tom racked his brain at the intelligent response. This creature, _Miles_ , was definitely not some regular... animal.

He thought for a moment, wondering exactly what he should say. This wasn't an ordinary lost child they were dealing with after all.

"You... look absolutely wet through," the cop said, bringing a curious look from both Miles and Wade, "You like hot chocolate?"

..............................................................

'What the hell are you' hadn't seemed like the most appropriate way to open conversations with the small, childlike creature, so Tom had sent Wade to grab a hot drink from the station's vendor while he attempted to figure out just what Miles was.

He started by getting Miles to stand while he dried him off. The logic was sound, the kid _was_ sopping wet after all, but Tom's real intent was to see if this really was just a small kid in some kind of costume.

There was no way. The flesh was very much a part of his small frame. It felt a lot like drying Ozzy off after a bath, only Miles was much lighter. Tom did his best not to hurt the kid.

He finished up, depositing the towel over a radiator, before Miles shook himself off like a dog. The fur poofed out, and he looked around Tom's office with curious eyes.

"I've never been in a police station before..." the creature said thoughtfully, while Tom sat his removed sneakers beneath the radiator to dry. 

Tom chuckled, finding the situation bizarre. "That right, huh? You a good kid?"

Miles looked back to him and cocked his head thoughtfully. "I think so... not really sure..."

Tom watched fascinated at the movement of the face, the movement of the mouthparts as they perfectly enunciated English words. Before he could ask anything else of the orange creature, the door opened. Miles recoiled defensively, but seemed to relax as Wade entered the office with three mug of steaming hot drinks in hand.

"Uh... tea up, guys?" the officer said uncertainly. He handed Tom a coffee, set his own on the desk, and handed the third mug to their strange little friend.

Miles sniffed at the drink curiously. "Is that for me?"

Wade nodded, Tom noticing a slight smile tug at his mouth at the fluffy little crearture's expression. "Sure! Be careful though, real hot. Mind it doesn't burn your... hands..."

Miles gingerly took the mug and sniffed at it again, black nose twitching. His ears perked as he returned his attention to the much larger cops, as the two men each took a seat. 

Tom gestured to the third chair. "Go on, Miles. Sit down."

Miles did as he was asked, Wade taking the child's mug as he climbed into the too tall chair. He turned, twin tails trailing beside each of his legs as he kicked his bare feet.

"Okay, Miles..." Tom said, taking a sip of his coffee and setting it back onto its coaster, "We just need to have a little chat, if that's okay..."

The creature drooped his ears and looked between the two cops, suddenly apprehensive. "Am... am I in trouble?" he squeaked, gripping his mug of hot chocolate defensively.

"No!" Tom replied, doing his best to be gentle, "We just need to... ask you a few questions, is all..."

Miles, impossibly fluffy, nodded his head timidly.

"Okay..."

"Right then..." Tom leaned forward and clasped his hands, while Wade sipped his own coffee. The other cop had put away his notebook; this was going to be strictly off the record. "Are you... alone? Do you live with anyone?"

Miles shook his head. "No..."

Tom and Wade exchanged glances. They had decided to leave out questions of Miles'... unique condition for now, in fear of frightening the kid. Tom's wife Maddie was on her way, and such questions would be more prudent when the veterinarian arrived.

"Where are you from?" Tom continued, "Can you tell us that?"

Miles leaned back in his chair defensively, eyes widening with fear.

"N... no..." the creature squeaked, voice barely audible. Tom leaned himself back and opened his hands, palms out, unwilling to frighten the child-creature any more. 

"Okay Miles, okay..." the cop said gently, "If you don't want to answer any more questions, we can leave it for now..."

Miles, fur poofed out, seemed to relax after a few seconds, taking a drink of his hot chocolate. He jerked in his seat as Tom and Wade stood from their chairs, frightened eyes flickering between the two men.

"It's okay, buddy!" the sheriff said, "Me and officer Whipple just need to discuss a few things... are you okay to just wait here for a minute?"

Miles, still very jumpy, nodded timidly and wrapped his clawed hands around his mug. Tom raised his eyebrows at Wade, and the two cops left the office. Tom made sure to lock the door, ensuring their small guest couldn't escape.

"Okay, Tom..." Wade said, releasing a deep sigh of exasperation, "He's real cute and all, but.. where the _hell_ did you find him?!"

"He was in a box in an alleyway!!" Tom replied defensively, "With the rain, and the dark... I couldn't see him properly! I thought he was just some lost kid... I couldn't just leave him there!"

Wade knuckled his temples, pacing the hallway. "What... do you think he _is?_ " the heavier cop said, "You think some... creepo got all Sweet Home Alabama with their dog or something?"

"I don't _know,_ Wade..." Tom replied, shaking his head. "And don't be gross..." He set his hands on his hips, checking the wall mounted clock. "Maddie should be here soon, though... if anybody can figure out what our little friend is, it's her."

"What do we do until then?"

Tom considered, brow furrowed. "We treat him like any other kid. Keep him occupied. Whatever he is, I... don't think it's safe out there for him right now. Even without the storm. He's still under our protection, Wade..."

Wade hummed and rubbed his chin. "Keep him occupied..." A sudden thought entered his brain. "I have my old Game Boy with me... you think he'll like Mario?"

Tom shook his head and couldn't help but grin, despite their peculiar situation. "It's worth a shot, Wade..."

....................................................................

Maddie looked sternly to her husband as they walked through the halls of the Green Hills Police Department station, her heeled shoes clacking across the wood.

"Do you mind telling me..." she said, doing her best to straighten her hip-length hair as she removed her coat hood, "why we're doing this here, and not at the clinic?"

"Because..." Tom replied, taking her coat, "this is one of those... _special_ cases..."

"Uh huh..." The dark skinned woman adjusted herself, veterinarian's kit in hand "How special?"

"Special enough," her husband replied as they approached his office. "Besides... this is a comfortable environment, and you're good with kids, so..."

She arched an eyebrow. "What's that got to do with anything?"

Tom wore an awkward expression as he turned the doorknob. "You'll see..."

Tom entered the room first, finding Miles sat on Wade's lap, grinning happily as he gripped an old handheld video game system in his hands. Tinny noises emanated from the device, the plings and pops of gameplay, the creature utterly fascinated.

"This is fascinating... I've taken these things apart before, but I've never used one in such perfect condition!" The creature said, thumbs tapping at the buttons.

"Well, be careful with it little dude...." Wade replied, "It's kinda old..."

"Miles?" Tom spoke up as he entered the room. Orange ears perked and blue eyes flickered to meet his... and the old games system hit the floor with a clatter as Miles saw the stranger. He shuffled defensively into Wade's lap, eyes regarding Maddie with fear.

"This is my friend Maddie..." Tom continued, earning himself a bewildered glance from his wife, "She's... a doctor. She'd going to take a look at you and see if you're hurt, okay?"

Maddie just seemed confused as she regarded the small, child-sized orange fluffball in Wade's grasp. It was only when the creature unfurled itself and returned to a sitting position, displaying a human-like build, she began to understand.

"O.. okay.." the creature whimpered.

Maddie almost dropped her case. She turned to her husband and shot him a look, earning a defeated shrug from the cop.

A few short minutes later, Miles was sat over the edge of Tom's desk, the furniture having been cleared of items so Maddie could check their little guest over. He seemed to respond well to her delicate touch, the experienced vet careful as she handled his small frame.

"Can you lift your... arm please?"

Miles did as he was asked, allowing Maddie to feel at the joints. She gasped as her hand rubbed the flesh of his upper torso, feeling the ribs beneath.

"You must be starving..." she muttered, more to herself than anything.

"I don't eat much..." the creature replied, causing her to jerk at the small voice, "That's why I'm here. To get food. But then the storm hit, and..." His ears drooped as he trailed off, recognising the scrutiny of the humans. He averted his eyes, looking to his own feet, seemingly reluctant to divulge much information on himself.

"So you have nowhere to stay?" Maddie tried, her brief bewilderment at the curious nature of her patient subsiding, "No family?"

Miles didn't respond, biting his lip.

"Wade?" Tom turned to his partner, who sadly gathered up the remains of his handheld console, "You mind getting us some more drinks?"

Wade looked between the married couple, before nodding and leaving the room.

"Okay, Miles?" Tom lowered himself into a crouch before the creature, now looking up at him. "I'm going to be honest with you. We only want to help... but we've never met... _anyone_ like you before... do you understand me?"

Miles' eyes widened with fear. "You mean, you didn't see me in the alley?"

Tom shook his head, inwardly relieved that the kid had finally recognised his peculiar difference. "Sorry buddy, it was real wet and dark... I didn't notice until we got you back here..."

Miles leaned back and screwed his eyes shut, knuckling his temples. "Jeez... _stupid, stupid..._ "

"Hey, calm down honey..." Maddie, adopting the same maternal tone she did when around her niece Jojo, gave her patient a quick soothing rub of the back. "We're just here to help, okay?"

Miles looked back to them, apparent tears in his all-too-human eyes, and nodded timidly. 

"Okay... what do you want to know?"

Good. Now they were getting somewhere.

"Well, Miles..." Tom said, "maybe you could tell us where you come from? We can start there?"

Miles shook his head. "I don't know..."

"Do you remember having any family?" Maddie added, "Anybody like you?"

Another shake of the head. "No... I'm the only one, as far as I know..."

Tom and Maddie exchanged glances.

"Do you have any idea what you are?" Tom pressed, causing the ears to perk. 

Miles wiped at his eyes, and seemed to steady himself. He drummed nervously with his claws over the desktop.

"No..." he said, voice evening out. "But... I was raised by foxes, in the wild..." The humans shared another glance. Tom checked the kid over. The term 'fox' was a pretty good description of his appearance. Despite the twin tails. "So that's what you think you are?" Maddie said soothingly, "A fox?"

Miles shook his head uncertainly. "I used to... I just assumed I was that until I got bigger... and smarter." He looked between the two humans awkwardly. "Foxes don't usually have opposable thumbs, or walk upright, or... speak."

The more he said, the more Tom began to understand that Miles was more intelligent than he'd been given credit.

"So, these foxes..." the human said, "Do you still live with them?"

Miles shook his head sadly. "No. They're dead. I've been on my own since I could walk like a person, and take care of myself."

That earned him a hum of pity from Maddie, while Tom racked his brain for more questions he could ask the apparent fox-boy.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Miles..." he said.

"It's okay. Most other people who've ever seen me haven't been this nice..." the kid replied. The humans exchanged another glance, Maddie mouthing the words _'what do we do?'_

Tom thought for a moment. There was nobody else like Miles that the kid knew of. He had no family, was suffering from malnutrition, and had nowhere to go. And with his very _special_ nature... Tom didn't know who to trust. Right now only four people knew he existed; Wade, Barbara, the station's receptionist who had seen Tom bring the bundle in, and the Wachowskis.

"Miles..." Tom said, his very serious tone perking the 'fox's' ears, "Are you absolutely sure you have nowhere to go?"

.............................................…......…

Miles' ears perked as Maddie held him in her arms, having been sat in her lap during the drive. He looked curiously at the household before him, while Tom locked the doors to his truck.

"Uh, not to be rude but... where is this?"

"Told you, kid..." Tom said, holding an excited Ozzy back on his leash, "Somewhere safe..."

Miles clung defensively to Maddie's coat, as the humans trekked over the sodden gravel of their driveway, and Tom unlocked the door to the building. The lights flickered on, And Tom was dragged along by a very soggy hound while Maddie set Miles down on his feet. He shook himself off, his fur ruffled and slightly damp, and perked his ears as he observed his surroundings.

This was a home. A very cosy home, with smooth wooden floors and comfy furniture. Photographs of the two people who had brought him here were gathered around the walls and tables, along with the large fluffy hound he knew as Ozzy. Their scent lingered in the air.

This was their home.

"Okay, Ozzy, STAY!" Sheriff Wachowski cried from another room, before a door slammed and Miles heard his feet slap across the floor. He cowered a little, still wary of his situation.

"It's okay, honey..." the person called Maddie knelt down beside him and gave him a small scratch at the neck, "You can go in..."

Miles pattered forward, tails swiping up and down, eyes and nose exploring more of the brightly lit, comfortable environment.

"Well, that's slobber-chops taken care of..." Tom exited the kitchen with a clap of his hands, causing their small orange guest to flinch with shock. "Ah, crap... sorry kid.."

" _Tom?_ " Maddie wore a stern look as she glared at her husband. _No cussing!_ she mouthed to him. He nodded in response.

"So, uh... so..." the male awkwardly set one hand on his hip, and gestured around their home. "What do you think of the place?"

Miles took another look around, ears perked and nose twitching, before looking up at the sheriff with his big, human-like eyes. "Why did you bring me here?"

Tom and Maddie exchanged a look, before the female scratted at the creature's neck.

"We don't really know what else to do with you, Miles..." Tom explained while Maddie pet him, "So we figured the safest place we could bring you for now was here..." He knelt down in front of the small fox-child, lowering to his level. "just until we figure out what we can do to help you... we want to help you, Miles. Do you understand?"

The fox looked at him with suspicion, before his ears drooped and his expression softened in a heartbreakingly human display of understanding, "How do you know I won't... mess things up? I'm not exactly... y'know, _normal..._ "

Tom looked to Maddie, who offered him a prompting raised eyebrow.

"It's up to you buddy," the sheriff replied, fixing his eyes on the fox's, "But we can keep you safe here. For as long as you need."

Miles looked away, brow furrowing as he appeared to calculate his current options.

They waited in silence, before the fox looked back up to him with eager eyes.

"Do you have anything to fix?" Miles said, pointed teeth flashing in a grin.

The Wachowskis looked toward one another again, and smiled.

"Sure, buddy..." Tom replied,reaching out and messing up the kid's 'hair', "I'm sure we can find something..."


	2. Miles Wachowski

Tom whistled to himself as he entered the house, careful not to bash the cardboard box in his arm against the doorframe. Not that it would matter; the contents were already in a state of disrepair. Which was the point. He shut the door behind him and headed through the hall to the kitchen, where the scent of cooking food reached his nostrils.

"hi, hon..." his dark skinned wife briefly turned and flashed him a smile, before returning to her tablet. The oven hummed, a tray of ribs cooking within.

"smells good..." Tom leaned over and inspected the contents of the oven, still clutching his box.

"Not yours, hon..." his wife replied, gesturing to the tinfoil wrapped plates already cooling on the side. She looked over the box in Tom's arms and grinned. "You got the goods?"

Tom smirked back, making for the kitchen door. "Where is the little guy?"

"Same place as always..."

Tom turned and headed down the hallway, adjusting his load as he headed for the room known to Tom and Maddie as... _the laboratory._

He knocked with his free first before opening the door, and entered a world of invention. Scattered around the room previously relegated to spare storage, were model parts, legos, half-finished jigsaw puzzles, games, old appliances... anything that could be taken apart and put back together was here, in a disorganised mess, and Tom had to tread carefully to avoid stepping on the sea of knick-knacks.

"Jeez, kid..." Tom said, lifting the box over his shoulder as he carefully approached the lone figure situated at the room's wall-mounted desk, "How do you _find_ anything in here?"

The occupant of the room turned to him, with big triangular ears perked, and grinned with pointed teeth.

"I have my system!" The 'fox' replied, raising his safety goggles as he set down a model plane that served as his current project. Tom grunted in response.

"What system, a security system? Kevin McAllister style?" Tom gently shifted a half-built remote control car with his foot. "Anyway, got a present for ya, kid."

Miles hopped from his chair and stepped easily through his room, avoiding the death trap of parts and pieces. He reached the much taller human and perked his ears, black nose twitching as he curiously investigated the box in Tom's hands. He looked up to Tom with big blue eyes. "What's this?"

Tom grinned and set the box down. "Open it and see!"

Miles did as Tom instructed, parting the flaps and retrieving a chunky, grey, rectangular plastic box, accompanied by a clutch of cables and two flat pads with red buttons.

He sniffed at the box, looking to Tom curiously. "Is this some kinda computer?"

"That, buddy..." Tom said proudly, "Is a Nintendo! It plays video games, like Mario!"

Miles grinned excitedly, tails swishing behind him happily. "Is it broken?"

Tom nodded, causing the fox-boy to squeak with delight.

"Yes!!" the fuzzy orange creature hugged the console and retreated to his desk, shifting aside his model-making equipment to set the machine down. He ripped open the canopy, the top of the console parting easily from the broken device. His nose twitched as he inspected the innards of the old console. "Uh huh... simple stuff... I've taken more advanced computers apart before, this should be easy!"

"Yeah, sure bud..." Tom replied, retrieving the now empty carboard box. "But you can get to fixing it up after dinner, okay?"

Miles' ears perked a the mention of food, and he followed Tom from the scattered room. The two males made their way to the kitchen, where a large yellow retriever was busily slobbering down his dinner. Miles briefly sniffed at the dog, before interestedly investigating the contents of the canine's bowl.

"Not yours, hon..." Maddie called, orange ears perking as Miles turned his attention to her. Tom chuckled as the fox scrambled into his chair, Maddie setting down a plate of ribs before him. Tom grabbed his and Maddie's food, and they set themselves down at the table with their plates of chicken and vegetables.

The humans clicked at their food with knives and forks, while Miles simply grabbed his food in both hands and tore strips of meat from the ribs. They had determined that he could eat pretty much anything, but he appeared to be of a more... carnivorous nature. Tom wondered what he'd survived on in the wild.

"That good, hon?" Maddie said, Miles's eyes flicking to her with interest. He nodded and grunted in affirmation, scarfing down the food hungrily.

Tom and Maddie looked to one another, thinking of conversation topics. They had to slow the fox's consumption down before he demolished the meal in seconds.

"So..." Tom said, again causing orange ears to flicker with attention, "Miles, huh? Why Miles?"

The fox paused, setting a now stripped bone down on his plate and wiping his mouth on the back of an arm. He suddenly seemed nervous. "Wh... what do you mean?"

"Your name?" Maddie chipped in, curiosity in her voice, "Where did you get your name?"

Miles shrank back in his seat, fur poofing out slightly. "I... I've always known it, I guess... even before I got smart... it's kinda the only thing I know about myself, except that I'm different..."

Tom and Maddie exchanged a quick glance, understanding that he seemed uncomfortable with the topic. Maybe it was stirring bad memories in him.

"Well, you sure are smart, buddy..." Tom said, changing subject as he sliced apart his chicken, "How'd you learn to... y'know, fix stuff? If you grew in the wild?"

Miles' ears perked up at this. "I taught myself! I hung around scrap yards when nobody else was around, and I just liked taking things apart and seeing how they worked! I didn't have many tools or anything, but I managed!"

"And how did you learn to speak?" Maddie chimed in, "Did you teach yourself that too?"

"I..." Miles' face fell as his mood shifted again, looking away and rubbing at the tip of one of his tails, "I learned..."

Again, the humans understood their little guest was reluctant to pursue the topic.

Miles returned to scarfing down his ribs, while the humans continued their own meal. It wasn't long until Ozzy started to beg, waggling his tail as he sat beside Miles

"Hey, Oz..." Tom said, snapping his fingers as he observed the fox clutching his food defensively, blue eyes boring down at the dog, "Here boy!"

Miles had taken to the dog well, but he still had some... leftover feral tendencies, and Tom didn't want a fight on his hands over the ribs. Fortunately, the fox returned his attention to his dinner and forgot about the other canine for the moment.

...................................................…

"Okay bud, you finished in there?"

Tom knocked at the bathroom door, from within the hiss of the shower having now ceased. He was met with a muffled squeak of affirmation, and responded by opening the door.

The bathroom was a mess of towels, the floor wet through, billowing steam unable to escape through the closed windows.

Miles was still getting used to showering facilities, it seemed.

Still, the fox grinned happily from the middle of the bathroom, fur sticking out madly after scrubbing himself dry. "Good?"

"Sure, bud..." Tom said uncertainly, logging the damage in his brain, "Try and make less of a mess next time, yeah?"

Miles responded by shaking himself violently, remaining water droplets spraying around the walls, floor, and Tom, causing the human to grimace as he rubbed his face.

The fox finished shaking, the tips of his tails the last to still, and cocked his head quizzically. "Huh?"

"Never mind..." Tom said, "Just... get yourself ready for bed, okay bud?"

Miles grinned and padded out of the bathroom, pawed feet and claws scratching over the wooden flooring of the hall. Tom set his hands on his hips and shook his head at the chaos left behind. He couldn't be mad at the kid; Miles had never had access to facilities such as these. 

As far as Tom knew. He was sure there was still a lot Miles was hiding from his past, but the humans had decided to leave it be. He'd open up in his own time, if he wanted.

...................................................………

"So... what are we going to do with him?"

Tom looked up from his book as Maddie nudged him lightly, his wife whispering so as not to wake the orange bundle accompanying Ozzy on the floor. The couple lay in bed, Tom reading with the assistance of a dim light while Maddie looked sadly over the sleeping fox. She looked back to him, worry in her eyes.

"How long do we let him stay?" she continued, squeezing Tom's hand.

"I guess as long as he needs..." Tom replied, keeping his voice low, "However long that might be...."

She looked back to the fox, accompanying Ozzy on his bed, curled into a fluffy ball as he snuggled into the large canine's belly. They had offered him the spare bed, but Miles had taken to the dog and enjoyed sleeping alongside him. Probably another leftover from his feral upbringing.

"There's so much we don't know about him..." she said, "we don't know old he is, or how big he'll get, or how long he'll-"

"Hey..." Tom cut her off before she could finish her morbid thought, "We'll cross these bridges when we get to them. He's not an animal, if he wants to leave we have to let him... but this is the safest place for him right now."

Maddie leaned into his side. "Weird, huh?" She said happily, "You ever think this is how we'd end up being parents?"

Tom chuckled and raised his eyebrows. "We're using the 'p' word now? Pretty bold assumption there, babe..."

"Wait, Tom..." Maddie shushed him, pointing to the dog bed, "Look..."

The humans leaned over to observe the fox in question, his limbs twitching, accompanied by muffled squeaks and yips.

"He's dreaming again..." She hissed, grinning ecstatically, just like when Ozzy were a pup and did the same.

Tom sniggered. "Shame we can't record this..."

"Oh yeah..." Maddie whispered dryly, "That'd go great on social media... 'hey everybody, here's a video of our talking mutant fox so-"

_"mama..."_

The tiny voice, muffled and pleading, stopped the humans in their hushed discussion. Maddie glanced at Tom. "Did you hear that?"

Before Tom could answer, the voice said again, _"Mama... mama..."_

It was heartbreaking. He sounded so desperate, and scared, and Maddie couldn't help but release a sigh of despair for the orange fox-child they had taken in under their roof.

"What are you doing?" Hissed Tom, as his wife swung her legs out of the bed. 

"I can't watch this, Tom..." She replied, carefully making her way over the room, "We aren't letting him sleep on the floor any more, okay? Like you said, he isn't an animal."

Tom observed as she lowered herself to her knees and gently scooped the whimpering, quivering bundle into her arms. Miles squeaked dumbly, still unconscious, as the human lifted him from the floor and tucked him into her chest.

"It's okay, honey..." She cooed, climbing back in their bed and setting him between them, "You're safe here..."

The fox, still asleep, instinctively curled back into his ball and snuggled into Tom's side, the human looking down with sympathy for the strange creature. Whatever he was, however smart he was, wherever he had come from... Miles was still a scared kid, who had been alone for too long.

"He really is just a kid, isn't he?" he whispered.

Maddie nodded. "I guess he's staying, then?"

Tom grunted as Ozzy, unwilling to miss out on the affection, hopped onto the bed and arranged himself over Tom's legs. The human reached out and scratted his old pup between the ears, shaking his head at the bizarre predicament he found himself in.

"Well..." Tom said quietly, smirking at his wife, "At least we have somebody who can fix my sandwich oven..."

Maddie smacked him on the nose, before the couple kissed each other goodnight and settled in with their new addition to the family.

And just like that, Miles the fox-boy from heaven-knows-where, became a Wachowski.


	3. A walk in the woods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this chapter takes place five years after the Wachowskis took Miles in, Miles is now very much exposed and officially a citizen of Green Hills, and legally adopted by Tom and Maddie.

Miles Wachowski was having a nice day.

He had everything he needed, right here in his 'laboratory'. Things to fix, things to take apart, things to put together... a computer with access to literally anything he could ever want to learn, a playlist filled with hours of chiptunes... and the peace and quiet to enjoy it.

So yeah, the thirteen year old was having a perfectly nice day.

Until his parents decided to ruin it for him.

"Miles?"

The teen perked his ears and grunted, deep in concentration as he carefully attempted to piece together his latest project - a large scale model of the Starship Enterprise, NCC -1701. Model making was one of his hobbies, and his living space was filled with scale replicas of planes, cars, ships, as well as various busted household appliances and electronic devices he'd scavenged intent on repairing them. Science fiction, movie, and video games posters littered the walls, along with designs for his own machine he would probably never get around to creating.

"Little busy here, dad..." the teen muttered, frowning behind his safety goggles.

"Miles, your mom and I have something important to tell you."

"I'll be done soon..."

"Miles, kitchen please. Now." the voice of his adoptive mother joined her husband, and Miles resignedly set his tools down with a petulant groan, removing his safety goggles and treading around the various objects scattered over the floor of his room. He followed his foster parents, through the hall and into the kitchen, where he was joined by a large, slobbery yellow hound. He fussed with Ozzy's ears as he sat in his modified chair, Tom and Maddie following suit the opposite side of the kitchen table.

He felt apprehension as the two adults glanced between one another. There was something wrong here.

"Uh... guys?" the thirteen year old said uncertainly, his ears flattening against his head defensively, "Have I done something wrong?"

"No, honey! It's not something you've done, it's just..." Maddie licked her lips, pausing uncertainly, "It's just... with you being known to people now, we decided..."

"We've enrolled you in school, kid." Tom said, nipping his wife's hesitation in the bud.

Miles flapped his jaw, eyes widening in shock. "You've... _what?!?_ "

"It's for the best, honey..." Maddie added quickly.

"Guys, I'm smart enough I don't even need school! You know this about me!"

"We know, kid..." Said Tom, "But you need an education, you need qualifications... and it'll do you good to, y'know, socialise! Make some friends, learn to deal with other people and all that."

Miles held his head in his hands and groaned in despair. "Dad... there's a _reason_ I don't go out much... just because people know about me these days, doesn't mean I want any more attention!"

"Sweetie, we know your condition is... particular, but you can't hide away forever..."

"Particular?! Mom, _look_ at me..." Miles shuffled out of his chair and gestured to himself, "I'm a three-foot-something bipedal, sapient fox... you think _I'm_ gonna get along fine in _school?_ "

"Buddy, look..." Tom stood and lowered himself to his adopted son's height, "You're officially recognised as a citizen of Green Hills... of Montana State, USA. You legally _have_ to undertake formal education! And to be honest kid, it _will_ do you good to be around other people. Socialise. You have a whole life to lead buddy, we just wanna make sure you get a good start!"

Miles drooped his ears and fiddled with his hands, utterly terrified at the prospect of being anywhere _near_ 'other people'. 

"When... when do I start?"

Maddie joined her husband in consoling their foster child, and the couple shared a look of concern. The dark skinned woman looked back to the orange-furred creature they had taken in as a small child. 

"Next week," she said flatly.

"NEXT WEEK?!" Miles jumped with a start, his ears fully perking and fur poofing out defensively "Are you KIDDING ME?!!?"

"It's okay, sweetie!" Maddie reached out in an attempt to console her adopted son, as he nervously fumbled with one of his twin tails, "It's plenty of time to prepare, you'll be fine!"

"I..." Miles stammered, letting his foster mother take his hands, "I... just don't think I'm ready..."

"It's all part of having a normal life, buddy..." Added Tom, "Just like you wanted?"

"We'll be right there with you, honey!" Maddie said.

Miles, unconvinced, bit his lip as he pondered the coming horror every kid has to endure known as 'high school'.

.............................................................

Tom Wachowski, in full sheriff's uniform complete with a donut, rapped his knuckles on a wooden door, upon which a sign read 'the laboratory'. He cleared his throat as he entered, wiping donut glaze from his mouth.

"Miles? You up?"

He was met with the very tired eyes of a grumpy teenage fox-creature, as the Wachowski in question perked his ears and registered his intruder.

Tom frowned. "You've been up all night again, haven't you?"

"Just making the most of my freedom..." Miles replied gloomily, ears drooping, "While I still have it..."

Tom pointed the index finger of his donut hand toward his fluffy orange son. "Look dude, I know you don't like it, but it's kinda the law? Besides, you get to skip elementary, so there's that."

"Yeah..." Miles said, "Lucky me..."

"Don't be sardonic..." Tom grunted, taking another bite of his donut. "Okay, I'm going to work... call me or your mom if you need anything, buddy."

"Okay."

"Make sure you take Ozzy for a walk."

"Okay..."

"And tidy your damn room! It's like a bombsite in here!"

"Yes, OKAY!!!!"

Miles turned back to whatever thing it was he had been fiddling with, back to his foster father. Tom took a breath, ready to berate his son for his attitude, but decided against it. It was too early to be arguing with moody teens, so he decided simply to shake his head and close the door.

"Damn teenagers..." The cop grumbled, shovelling the rest of his donut into his mouth as he went to begin his day.

...............................................................…

The house was silent for a couple of minutes, the only sound the ticking of the wall mounted clocks and the rumble of Tom's truck from outside. The truck fired up and crunched away over the gravel... and as the engine faded, the door to the 'laboratory' creaked open, allowing a ruffled foxlike humanoid to exit into the hall, bare pads of his feet lightly patting the wooden floor.

Miles Wachowski, thirteen years old and roughly three feet six inches tall, padded through the halls of his foster home and headed to the kitchen in search of caffeine. He entered the kitchen, gaining the attention of a large slobbery yellow dog.

Miles clicked his tounge to Ozzy, the yellow hound slapping his tail against the floor happily, and hopped onto a chair so he could reach the counter. He flicked the kettle on and grabbed a can of coffee, upon which was a note attached with sticky tape. The note read _Attention all foxes - paws off! this means you, Miles - dad._

Miles chose to ignore Tom's written warning, unscrewing the cap and spooning coffee into a mug. He needed the boost after the roughly hour's worth of sleep he'd had the night before.

He felt his right tail brush something wet, and he turned to find Ozzy sniffing at the appendage. Miles leaned over and grabbed a bag of dog treats, retrieving a pair of bone-shaped chews from the bag.

"Hey, Oz! Catch!"

Miles threw on treat to the dog, the canine gleefully grinding the treat into fragments, and chucked the other treat into his own mouth and began crunching. The treats were pretty tasteless, but good for his teeth.

He paused in his 'snack', and chuckled humourlessly. _Great... some first impression I'm gonna make at school... hi, I'm Miles Wachowski! I'm a thirteen year old mutant twin-tailed fox thing, I grew up in the woods like a wild animal, and I can fly! Also, I eat dog treats. Totally normal!_

Well, he would leave the part about being able to fly out at least. Nobody could know about his powers, at least not if he wanted to remain a mere 'genetic anomaly' and not a dissected corpse in some government facility.

Probably best if he left out the dog treat thing, too. No hiding the fox thing, though.

Miles finished his 'breakfast', setting his mug down and clicking at Ozzy. The old dog stood to attention, ears perked and tail wagging. 

"Okay, Oz... wanna go for a walk?"

Ozzy barked happily and hopped to his feet, slobber flicking from his chops. Miles gave him a quick scratch between the ears, before padding off to get ready.

Funny. It was almost as though the old canine understood him perfectly.

................................................................

Clothing had been a weird habit to get used to, when Miles had first come to the Wachowskis at six years old. He'd been largely feral at that age. Highly intelligent and very good with his hands, but still living in the wild and only venturing into civilisation if he desperately needed food. He'd never been good at scavenging or hunting, and at that age he'd often pass as just some regular animal if he remembered to keep his twin tails coiled... and his stance quadrupedal. There'd still been times when somebody had _seen_ him, and he'd had to make a quick exit before they could think about it too much.

So clothing hadn't been much of a concern, his fur thick enough to cope, until the Wachowskis took him in and began teaching him in the mystical ways of 'personal hygiene'. Keeping his fur clean and clipped, and buying him clothes to protect him from the elements. As a youngster he'd enjoyed dungarees, because of the protection and storage space they afforded him. Came in handy for his tinkering.

Nowadays, now he was _known..._ He'd settled for a thick blue hoodie to go with his denims, the oversized garment easily capable of containing his ample covering of fur... as well as obscuring his head with the hood, and hiding his tails. So long as he kept them coiled up, and tucked between his shoulder blades. From a distance, he'd easily pass as just some young kid. Some young, _normal_ kid.

"Oz? Don't go too far dude!"

Miles clicked his tongue and called after the old hound, Ozzy turning and bounding back toward his 'brother' as easily as if he'd been whistled. Miles had a way with the dog, which even Tom lacked. When Tom was at the reigns, it was usually Ozzy taking _him_ for a walk. Miles didn't even bother with the leash, keeping the thing slung around his shoulders.

They'd been walking about an hour or so, heading deeper into the thick forests surrounding Green Hills. Into the wilderness. They were safe enough. Ozzy enjoyed the exercise, and Miles enjoyed being back on home turf. He could sniff his way back home blindfolded if it came to it.

Besides, out here he could let himself hang out. His hoodie now sat tied around his waist, swinging behind along with his uncoiled tails, and a light drizzle made his thick fur pleasantly damp. His ears swivelled and his nose twitched with the sounds and scents of the wild. It was nostalgic, being out here. It took him back to when he was very small... he estimated roughly two years old, not that he'd been counting at the time, and he was in the care of two adult foxes. he remembered snuggling into the orange-brown fur of the female, and batting playfully at the face of the male.

He wondered if those two foxes had had 'names'. He didn't remember. Not that it mattered. They were long gone.

A mischievous thought entered his brain as he spotted Ozzy, obliviously investigating a hole in the muck with his snout mostly obscured, tail in the air. 

Heh. Gremlin time.

Miles, ears perked and tails arched, crouched down into a squat, fixing his eyes on the oblivious hound and edging forward slowly, quietly... before pouncing, claws outstretched, and caught the dog in a tackle. Ozzy yelped in surprise, but recovered quickly enough. There was a brief trade of snapping jaws, before Miles slammed onto his butt and raised his hands in defeat.

"Okay! Okay dude, you got me!"

The dog responded by slobbering his face. Miles shoved the snout away and hopped back to his feet, wiping muck from his denim overalls.

Such feral moments were for out here, and out here only. He was different enough without displaying his 'gremlin side' in front of people. Especially when he started...

_School._

Miles sighed, snapping his fingers at Ozzy and continuing their trek through the wilderness. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his denim dungarees, kicking at the brush with his sneakers as he remembered his coming situation.

 _They're gonna rip you to shreds,_ he thought to himself miserably, _they're gonna kill you..._

It was his own fault, he supposed. It had been his idea to finally come out of hiding, to expose himself to the world. Tom and Maddie had been, understandably, incredibly reluctant with the idea, but had relented. It was his decision. He couldn't _hide_ any more. Only a handful of people knew of his existence, all of whom close family and friends, and it restricted his freedom. He wanted to do stuff, he wanted to live a _normal_ life like other kids got to do... he was very aware that his particular 'condition' would make this a trial, but at the time he had been willing to take that risk. He'd been going crazy with the restrictions his life in hiding brought him.

So, the 'fox-boy of Green Hills' had become a novelty for a while there... a kid, with 'genetic abnormalities' that gave him the appearance of a typical red fox crossed with a human. People had been fascinated, even going as far as to visit the Wachowski household in hopes for an interview, or send him invitations to appear on talk shows to discuss his 'story', or whatever. He'd flatly denied them all, unwilling for the attention, except for one time when Tom and Maddie hadn't been home. Some jerks from the internet had interrupted him during a _very_ delicate project, and he'd angrily answered the door, appearing like a fluffy mad scientist with his safety goggles lowered, to impolitely suggest they leave him alone.

They'd got their pictures, at least. He'd been all over the internet within hours. After that he adopted the practice of covering himself up with baggy clothing.

Still, at least now he didn't have to worry as much about people freaking out over his appearance. He was a freaking viral sensation, so even if they were surprised, they at least were _aware_ of his existence. And nowadays the novelty had worn off, so if he found himself in public he'd only have to put up with curious and invasive stares. 

He still got that odd 'special' individual asking him if he could talk, though. Which was... insulting. He'd usually mutter something along the line of 'yeah, sure', and they'd go away to laugh and discuss excitedly with their friends, but some people would press him and request he say more. Like he was a performing animal or something.

So unsurprisingly, he wasn't ecstatic with the idea of spending five days a week in a place filled with hundreds of kids. Most of whom would have the intellectual and emotional maturity of a bag of rocks.

They were going to rip him to shreds.

He'd been stupid to think he'd be too smart to go to school. Apparently, he wasn't.

Miles was ripped from his melancholy by a sneaky root, stumbling as his boot became stuck and tripped him. He easily rolled and landed on all fours, shaking himself off from the fall and returning to his normal bipedal stance.

He suddenly realised Ozzy was missing.

Crap. 

"Oz?" the fox-boy raised his voice and began scanning for the yellow hound. Moments passed without sight of the old pup, and Miles felt panic rise in his chest... before a yellow head appeared from the brush, _boof_ ing to get his attention.

Miles released a sight. "Thanks dude, you just scared the crap outta me..." he treaded through the forest floor, approaching his 'brother' and fumbling in his pocket for his bag of treats. "Where do you think you're going..."

Ozzy responded with a bark, turning and heading back into the brush... before turning and eyeing Miles expectantly.

Miles cocked his head in understanding. He raised his nose and sniffed, ears swivelling.

After a few moments, he replied. "Yeah, I smell it too..."

People.

Hunters maybe? Probably best they steer clear. 

"Come on, Oz..." the fox said, beginning to undo his hoodie from his waist, "Let's get home... I need a shower anyw-"

Ozzy responded with a bark, and tore off in the direction of the smell.

"-hey!" Miles squeaked in alarm, as Ozzy's yellow butt disappeared into the foliage. In a panic, he struggled into his blue hoodie, ears flopping through the neck hole, and spun up his twin tails.

This was his other peculiarity. The one he absolutely _couldn't_ let the world know about.

With practiced ease, long learned from before he was old enough to even walk upright, Miles hovered into the air on the spinning appendages, and boosted forward like a fluffy missile.

His tails, improbably spinning like propellers, thrust him forward so fast he caught up with the fleeing hound in moments. He slowed the spin of his appendages and met the dog's pace, hovering angrily beside him as he bounded through the brush.

"Ozzy?!" the amazing flying fox-boy squeeled petulantly, "Slow the heck down! Where do you think you're going?!?"

The dog continued his flight, ears and tongue flopping, until he eventually slowed and came to a stop beside a large tree.

Miles fluttered to a landing beside his dog, knees taking his meagre weight as his boots sank into the ground.

"What do you think you're doing?!" Miles hissed, retrieving the leash from around his shoulders, "Seriously dude, since when do you just-"

_"Hello?"_

Miles tensed at the small voice. His ears perked and his nose twitched. Somebody was nearby, and they decidedly did not smell like a hunter.

Miles held himself low, prowling through the brush with Ozzy in tow. He glanced to the old dog, Ozzy understanding and remaining silent, and lowered himself to all-fours to better hide his profile. He was bright orange and wearing blue, so camouflage wasn't going to help him.

He reached a hand out to Ozzy, causing the yellow dog to lay on his stomach, and peeked from his cover in the bushes. A light drizzle went unnoticed as droplets pattered from his head.

Before him, in a bright pink hooded parka and green wellies, a small girl sniffled and looked around with big scared eyes.

"Hello?" the girl whimpered again, scanning the surrounding forest.

Crap. She was only small. And had to be lost.

That brought back memories.

"Well, dude..." Miles reached out and scratted his dog's head, "guess you did good..."

.................................................................

Miles decided the best approach here would be to just... let everything hang out. He may have been a freak... but he was small, and fluffy, and - as much as the increasingly moody thirteen year old loathed to admit it - cute. That could come in handy when dealing with a small child. Well, more so than some hooded stranger desperately covering their face might anyway.

So he gave Ozzy a quick scratch at the ears as he fixed the leash around the dog's neck, and swallowed back a wave of nerves as he flexed his tails and treaded through the brush.

The girl whimpered at the sound of movement, bobbed blonde hair swinging beneath her pink hood as she whipped around.

Miles felt his ears droop as she fell back, gasping at his appearance.

He stopped, Ozzy panting beside him, and rubbed the back of his head nervously.

"H... hi?"

The girl's eyes bulged as she took him in, and he was terrified he might have made a mistake.

"Its... it's okay!" He said, doing his best to appear unthreatening, "I'm just here to help!" He racked his brains, thinking back to when he was very small, and very scared, and very wet as the sheriff of Green Hills eased him from his hiding place all those years back. He cleared his throat and tried again. "I'm... I'm Miles!" He squeaked, "What's your name?"

The girl seemed to hesitate, before she answered in a very small voice. "Sally..."

Miles felt relief that she hadn't bolted, getting herself even more lost in this wilderness. "Hi, Sally! Are you lost?"

She nodded timidly, sinking further into her pink coat. 

"Were you with anybody else? Does anybody know you're out here?" Miles pressed, thinking of things Tom might ask the girl had he been in this position.

She nodded again. "My brother Nicky..."

Miles began to approach her slowly, noting how she retreated backwards, her eyes locked on Ozzy.

"It's okay, this is Ozzy! He's a nice dog!" He gave a hound a scratch with his claws and gave Ozzy a look. "Right boy?"

Ozzy whimpered in agreement, Miles again exercising his special way with the dog.

He looked back to the girl, ears and Tails drooping. "Do you... know about me?"

She seemed to think for a moment, before nodding again.

Major relief flooded through him at that.

"Great!" He squeaked happily. "Okay then Sally... how about we look for your brother together? I'll help you find him!"

She sniffed and wiped at her face with her coat sleeve. "I don't know where he is..."

"That's okay!" Miles replied, tapping at his nose. "I'll sniff him out! And Ozzy can help!"

She looked at him, now fascinated, as he held out a hand. Tentatively, the girl reached out her own mitted hand, and grabbed hold of his.

Miles grinned at her, then clicked his tongue to his hound, the dog loping off ahead while Miles led Sally in search of her brother.

...........................................................

Miles led sally through the forest, the girl now regarding him with fascination as she followed his lead. He kept his ears perked and his nose at the ready. It wasn't long until he picked up another scent, and his ears were tickled by the distant sound of a voice.

_"Sally? Sally?!"_

Miles stood still, keeping his ears pricked, like a predatory animal detecting prey. He turned and grinned to his current charge.

"Hey, I think your brother's this way!"

They trekked through the brush, Miles following the sound and scent of the other human along with Ozzy. Soon, Sally perked up at the voice, squealing and running ahead.

"That's him! Nicky!!"

Miles watched as she ran on, following behind along with the dog, and ground to a halt in the dirt as his eyes landed on a camouflage-clad individual, kneeling to grab hold of his little sister.

"Sally?! Jesus, come here!"

Sally ran into his arms and clung on tight, the hooded teenager seemingly overwhelmed with relief at her return.

"Don't you EVER wander of like that again, little sis!!" The teen, voice curiously high pitched for a male, shook her by the shoulders and glared at her sternly from beneath his hood, face pale with fear for his sister. "Jeez, I'm glad you're safe..."

"It's okay, Nicky!" The girl said happily, hopping away from his grip and pointing to her rescuer, "Miles found me! He helped me find you!"

Miles, back in his blue hoodie and head obscured to escape the increasing rain, swallowed back his nerves as he knew what was coming next.

"That so?" 'Nicky', wiping his hands off on his white-camouflaged jacket, stood and turned to regard the blue-hooded individual. "Well dude, I gotta say..."

He paused. Miles, face-on to the pale human, shrank a little into his hoodie, before deciding that honesty might be the best way to handle the situation.

Reluctantly, he raised his hands to his hood and exposed his face, orange and white fur ruffling in the breeze.

Nicky flapped his jaw... before appearing to regain his composure. 

"Dude, thank you so much!" the other teen said, grinning from beneath his hood. "My parents would have kicked my ass if I went back without my sis!"

"Hey!"

"Uh, also..." The camouflaged teen turned and grinned sheepishly at his seemingly outraged younger sister, "I guess I love her or somethin'..."

Miles didn't know how to handle the situation, shrinking back inside his hoodie.

"It... it's okay, I just... I..."

"It's okay!" The younger girl piped up, "He's a little scary looking, but he's really nice!"

Miles, though saddened at the unflattering comment, was at least thankful for her vote of confidence.

"Y.. yeah..." he stammered, fiddling with his claws, "I look weird, but I just wanted to help..."

The older teen guffawed. "Dude, she's talking about _me!_!"

"Huh?"

Miles watched as the older teen lowered his camouflaged hood, revealing a blue spiky mohawk, and multiple piercings. Large circular black rings sat in his ears, and he happily extended his tongue to reveal yet another piercing.

Miles felt a stab of fear at the sight of the lanky punk who grinned at him, his ears drooping defensively.

"Dude..." The teen said, "I have to pay you back for finding my sis!"

"N... no, that's okay..." Miles stammered, clutching Ozzy's leash.

Nicky finally seemed to register the fox-boy's nervous disposition, and raised his hands in an attempt to console the smaller teen. 

"Hey dude, it's okay!" He said, flashing an infection grin, "I know who you are okay, and I don't care! I just wanna thank you!" He paused for a moment, before extending a hand. "Name's Nicky! Nicky Sanchez!"

Miles considered, before finally relenting. "Miles..." he said, doing his best not to squeak, "Miles Wachowski!"

The two teens shook, and Nicky gestured to his sister.

"I guess you already know the squirt..." he said, earning himself a bat at the arm from the pink clad girl. "So, uh, Miles..." The taller teen scratted at the skin beneath his mohawk, "I guess we'd better get back to town... you feel like walking back with? Get a bite to eat?"

Miles considered, before shaking his head. "Sorry, I gotta go home..."

"Hey, no sweat! You can still walk back with us if you want?"

Again, Miles thought about it. He didn't know how to feel about the punk. The kid did look scary with his piercings and mohawk, but Miles couldn't help but feel secure in his company. Maybe it was because he had barely drawn any attention to Miles... uniqueness.

Eventually, he managed a shy grin and nodded. "I... guess we could do that..."

Nicky flashed him that grin again, and raised his camo hood against the rain. "Okay then, little dude! Let's head on out!"

The punk took his sister's hand while Miles gripped Ozzy's leash, and the party began to make their way out of the thick woods and back to Green Hills.

.........................................................…

"Miles? Come on hon, dinner's ready..."

Maddie fussed with her ponytail as she deposited chicken wings into a large dish, setting the food on the kitchen table. Before long, a _very_ fluffy orange figure entered the room, stinking of shampoo and scratting at his fur while he eyed the food hungrily.

Maddie raised an eyebrow, a glass of wine in one hand and a soda in the other. "Shirt please, Miles."

The teen groaned, reversing course while Maddie set the drinks down. He returned moments later, a baggy white Star Trek shirt now containing his considerable coating of fuzz.

"I think somebody needs a clip..." The woman said cheekily, bringing another groan from the thirteen year old.

"Mom, it's getting cold..."

"That's why we have clothes, sweetie..."

"You get to have your hair long!"

"My hair doesn't turn the entire house orange."

Miles grunted, fiddling with a chicken drumstick.

The two ate alone, Tom pulling a double shift to cover for a sick colleague. An orange ear twitched as Ozzy sniffed at a fluffy tail, the teen pulling a chunk of meat from a wing and chucking it to the yellow hound. The morsel was snapped up greedily by slobbering jaws, before the dog retreated to his bed in the kitchen.

"So..." Maddie said, cutting off a slice of chicken, "What did you get up today? Apart from not tidying your room?"

"Mom, I have my system!" Miles replied, "I know where everything is!"

"It's like a junkyard in there, Miles."

"You don't even have to go in there!"

"I like my house to be _clean_ , Miles."

Miles tore off a chunk of meat with his carnivorous front teeth, and fiddled with the bone between his fingers. 

Maddie took a sip of wine. "Did you at least take Ozzy out?"

"Yeah..." Miles replied, attitude diminishing as he seemed to think. "And... I know it sounds stupid, but..." His ears drooped and he shrank down a little, apparently considering whether he should speak what was on his mind.

"Go on, hon..." Maddie said, understanding her adopted son had something he wanted to say and was lacking the confidence, "What is it?"

"I think..." Miles said setting the stripped chicken wing down and looking up at her with big puppy-dog eyes, "I think I made a friend?"

That threw her for a loop. With recent events, the attention Miles had received since revealing himself to the world... he had been self conscious of late, his confidence lower than ever... and the news that he might have opened his shell made her heart leap.

"Hey, that's great honey!" Madde said leaning over the table and beaming at her orange son, "You wanna tell me about it?"

So Miles did, explaining to his foster mother the entire ordeal, how he and Ozzy had found the girl and returned her to her brother, and how the punk had been scary at first but in reality been extremely kind, and how on the way home they had agreed to hang out some more before Miles started school. The other kid had even offered to introduce Miles to his other friends. As Miles told his story, Maddie was elated to see his temperament change from 'moody teen' to 'excited teen'.

"I'm proud of you, sweetie!" Maddie said, reaching out and squeezing his hand, "And you're going to do great at school, okay? If you can make friends like this, you'll do just fine!"

Miles bristled at the 's' word again. Despite his achievement with finally making a friend outside of the family, he was still unconvinced that it was going to make things much easier. 

But maybe... just maybe... it would? 

"Yeah, mom..." Miles replied, swivelling another drumstick between his fingers, "Sure..."


	4. School Days

"Mom, stop _fussing me!_ "

Maddie Wachowski ceased tidying her son and set her hands back on the wheel of the family truck, eyes flicking to the lights as they switched to red. Acceleration was sluggish, the driver in front apparently unconscious, but Maddie was thankful right now for the dragging out of time.

"Sorry honey..." She said, switching up a gear, "A mother only gets to drive her baby to school for the first time once..."

Beside her, Miles Wachowski rubbed at his 'hair', moodily attempting to undo the damage she'd caused to his normally ruffled appearance.

Maddie sighed, adjusting her driving glasses. Miles was scared. She could tell he was tense as he adjusted the thick orange fuzz that crested his head... between his triangular ears, to the base of his neck, to rejoin the thick coat of orange fur that covered his body.

Yeah, he was scared. And for good reason. The 'Fox-boy' of Green Hills lived up to his name in appearance.

"You okay, baby?" the woman said, as the thirteen year old scratted at himself.

"Hnn," he grunted in response, "Itchy."

Maddie understood. The colder months were approaching, and his already ample covering of fur was thickening in response. At least Maddie and her husband didn't have to hold him down anymore when they clipped him, like they had to with a particular partially-feral seven year old once upon a time.

"I'm sorry honey, but it needed doing." She replied, Miles raising his blue hood to conceal his ears.

He muttered something under his breath in response.

The woman raised an eyebrow as she glanced at her adopted son. "What was that?"

"I said I might as well get it all cut off, huh?" He snapped, glaring at his foster mother with big blue eyes, "Then I might be more 'normal'..."

Maddie didn't have an immediate response to that. In the years since she had taken in Miles as her own, she had never seen him this... self conscious, or uncomfortable with himself. He'd never seemed to have an issue with his 'differences', but then he'd been in hiding most of his life. 

And now he was being thrown into high school, among hundreds of other kids, and it was scaring the hell out of him.

"Honey, people know who you are, right?" Maddie attempted to console him, the teen having been big news locally upon his introduction to society. "So at least they know what you look like..."

"You don't get it, mom..." Miles turned and regarded her fearfully, blue hood shuffling as his ears drooped, "People... a lot of people don't think it's _real..._ they don't believe I'm really like... this... they just think I'm kinda weird looking, like I have a funny face or something! Those pictures on the internet? You know how easy it is to photoshop stuff?" He slumped back in his seat, folding his arms and sinking into his oversized blue hoodie. "I'm literally the definition of an anthropomorphic animal. I'm not even human."

"You don't know that, baby..." Maddie said, registering his melancholy, "And nobody else does either."

They fell into silence as Maddie guided the truck through town, the streets slowly filling with more and more students on their way to their place of learning. And the more there were, the more tense Maddie could feel Miles become. He leaned his white muzzle in one hand, obscuring his mouth, blue eyes flicking over the crowds of teenagers like he were scanning for predators.

Maddie allowed him some mercy, and parked the truck a short ways from the school, allowing him space to make his own approach. The truck engine rumbled idly as she turned to her passenger.

"Okay baby..." she said, squeezing his shoulder, "This is it..."

Miles didn't respond immediately, simply staring out at the school building and its surrounding gangs of students, ears perked beneath his blue hood. A lump shifted beneath the jumper, his twin tails flicking in apprehension.

"Baby?" Maddie said, squeezing his shoulder again, "You okay?"

"No..." His voice was barely a whisper as he leaned away from the passenger side window, "No..."

Before Maddie could respond, Miles whipped around and grabbed her arms, sheer terror in his face, "Mom, I can't do it! I can't do it! Don't make me go mom, please _don't make me go!!!_ "

Maddie felt like turning the truck around right there and taking her son home, away from the source of his panic. But she couldn't. It was make or break time, and if Miles was going to survive in the world... he needed to face this.

"Baby? Baby, listen to me..."

Maddie took her son and made him focus on her face, squeezing both his biceps in her hands. 

"I know you're scared, honey... I'm scared too..." She said, looking directly into his bright blue, very human eyes, "I know it's gonna be hard for you, Miles... but you're strong. And you're smart. You survived for years by yourself when you were an infant, you can do this! And we're going to be right there for you, sweetie... okay?"

Miles, the cogs turning in his brain, gave a timid nod.

"You have friends here, right?" She continued, "Find your friends. They'll take care of you, understand?"

Again, Miles offered her a small nod. She reached out and grabbed him in a tight squeeze, rubbing the back of his neck in the spot she knew he liked.

"You're going to be fine, sweetie... just fine..."

"I'm sorry mom... I'm just scared..."

"I know, honey, I know..." Maddie leaned away and gave him a smile. "I'm so proud of you, baby. You can do this."

"Okay..." Miles released a deep breath and gripped the straps of his rucksack, "Okay..."

He turned, gripped the door handle, and swung open the car door. Like a paratrooper about to jump into combat, he pushed himself from the passenger seat and his sneakers slapped into the tarmac. 

"Honey?"

Miles turned and took another look toward his foster mother, desperately wishing he could just hop back into the inviting warmth of the passenger seat. 

"We're just a phone call away, okay? Call us if you need _anything._ "

Miles nodded. "Thanks mom..."

Maddie smiled at her son as he reluctantly closed the car door with a click, and stepped back as she revved the engine.

She couldn't help but feel heartbroken as she saw him, still watching after her in the interior mirror, and again had to fight the urge to turn the truck around and just take him home.

She wouldn't do that. But she would park a couple of blocks over, cell phone handy. Just in case.

................................................................

Miles watched the truck round the corner, the safety of his mother vanishing from sight. He remained still for a few moments, unwilling to take in the sight before him. 

Eventually, resignedly, he turned and began to trudge toward his ultimate doom.

There were kids everywhere, gathered in gangs, parking their bikes, tapping away at cell phones, chattering... scaring the crap out of Miles Wachowski...

He kept his eyes peeled for a familiar spiky blue mohawk. That would be his only source of consolation at this time.

He gripped the straps of his large rucksack tight, keeping his tails hugged tight against his back. With his hood up and head down, additional appendages tucked inside his hoodie, he might be able to pass as just a short kid... for now. They had to know he was coming. He'd refused to take an introductory tour of the place, but the school had been informed of the 'special' kid who was to join them soon.

Gripping his rucksack tight, he then realise; he had forgotten to wear gloves. the darker orange-brown fur of his hands was plainly visible, along with the claws and pads. He paused, heart in mouth, close enough to the school he was almost among the gangs of teenagers.

He cursed himself, but found a solution in shoving his hands into his kangaroo pocket. However, without his rucksack holding his tails in place, the coiled appendages hung loose. Keeping them tucked between his shoulder blades would cause the muscles to ache before long, and he was terrified of his additional limbs flopping out and completely blowing whatever cover he could maintain.

He attempted to adjust himself further, scanning for blue spikes. He was beginning to overheat and sweat. Despite his 'haircut', he was still possessed an ample covering of thick fur, and his flustered temperament wasn't helping. Other teens passed by, some casting curious glances at the blue-hooded kid who fiddled with his outfit.

"Hey, move it short stuff!"

Miles couldn't help but release a muffled squeak as he was roughly shoved aside, his hood dislodging and covering more of his face so he couldn't see, the feet of two larger figures scuffing past.

He reflexively adjusted his hood and shot a look of alarm at his tormentors, who seemed very pleased with themselves for their ability to violently displace much smaller kids.

They cast nasty little looks, enjoying their own achievement... before the taller paused as his eyes met with Miles'.

The tall, blond haired teen nudged his shorter, ginger counterpart and pointed. "Hey, dude... check it out...

Miles shrank into his hoodie as the pair approached, utter fascination in their hairless faces.

"Hey... holy shit dude, it's that..." Blondie snapped his fingers, "Fox-guy, right?"

Miles didn't respond, feeling _very_ small beneath the taller teenagers.

"Shit, it is him!" Ginger added, reaching out and attempting to grab Miles' hood, "Hey, hey! Come here, kid!"

By now bystanders were observing the interaction with interest, as the double team of Lanky blond and Tubby Ginger accosted the much smaller, blue-hooded individual they had referred to as 'fox-guy'.

"Come on dude!" Lanky Blond said, towering over Miles' smaller frame, "Can you talk?"

Miles couldn't help but shrink back, frightened eyes flicking between the larger teenagers that surrounded him. He was far too aware that his fuzzy orange and white face was very exposed and obvious right now, even if his hoodie concealed most of his 'peculiar' features.

"Come on!" Lanky Blond, irritated now, gave him a brief tap on the chest, "Say something!"

Miles flinched at the light contact. He had no idea if these people were attempting to intimidate him, were genuinely fascinated, or just screwing with his head. He hadn't developed the social skills to discern these things.

"I..." He could only whimper, ears flattened against his head, "I..."

"Come on, asshole! Talk!"

"I... can't do it..."

With that, Miles turned and bolted, sneakers pattering over the parking lot as he desperately attempted to keep his hoodie over his head. He was aware of the hollering teens calling him back, but had no intention of returning to their company.

He tried hard to stop the tears streaking from his eyes. He really did.

........................................................................…

"Miles? Buddy?"

Nicky, ever observant and defensive of his friends, had kept a keen eye out that morning for the arrival of the Green Hills High's newest student. Talk of the 'fox-guy' had been circulating since word had got out that the local fascination was to be joining their ranks, most of it accusations of the kid's genuinity. Most people were convinced the images that had gone viral, of a very angry, safety-goggled orange-furred creature baring his teeth at his intruders, was nothing more than extremely competent phot manipulation. These theories had been compounded by the fact Miles had barely been seen outside of his own home, putting his legitimacy even more in question.

Nicky knew it was because Miles liked to spend his time tinkering in his own space, and away from unwanted attention. The kid had said as much.

But even though he'd been keeping an eye out for him, Nicky had been too slow to intervene before Miles had been sniffed out and tormented, and subsequently bolted over the parking lot and toward the baseball field. Nicky, clad in his thick studded leather jacket and camouflage pants, had shoved past throngs of curious bystanders and headed in pursuit, black boots clopping over the tarmac.

The skinny punk ran a hand through his mohawk, scanning for Miles' blue-hooded form.

"Dammit, Miles... where'd you get to?"

"N... Nicky?"

He turned at the sound of the small voice, and lowered into a squat... managing to make out a blue hooded figure hiding beneath the bleachers, wrapped inside something orange. 

"Miles?" The punk said, offering the fox-kid a cautious grin, "Nice little home you got there! Can I come in?"

Miles nodded timidly, blue eyes just visible from beneath the hood. Nicky lowered to his hands and knees and crawled into the confined space, scuffing his jacket and combats in the dirt. He didn't mind.

He arranged himself beside Wachowski, ducking his head low, and grinned at his friend. "Cosy! You..."

The older teen trailed off as he realised what Miles was sheltering himself in. A big... no, _two_ big bushy orange tails, tipped with white.

"Huh," the teen said, "I didn't know you had _those._ "

Miles looked at his leather-clad friend like he were an imbecile. "How did you not? I'm not exactly a secret..."

Nicky shrugged. "To be honest, when the whole thing with you... 'coming out'? And being all over the internet and stuff happened? I stopped paying attention."

Miles laughed humourlessly. "Nice to know _somebody_ doesn't find me interesting."

"Hey dude, I think you're awesome!" Nicky replied, lightly punching his new friend in the arm, "I just figured, you know, there this kid, with this _difference_ he probably didn't ask for, and I didn't like how... _exploitive_ it all was. Like, 'let's all point and laugh at this guy who just wants to live a normal life', y'know?"

Miles looked at him uncertainly for a moment, before looking back to his feet and wrapping himself tighter in his tails.

"I can't do it..." he whimpered, voice breaking. "I can't go in there... with all those people..."

Nicky realised that his friend had probably been crying. He knew he was scared shitless, and given his unique condition, Nicky didn't blame him. 

"Can I tell you something about me?" the punk said, shrugging out of his jacket, "Something you might not know?"

Miles turned and regarded him curiously, as the skinny punk deposited his studded jacket into the dirt. "What's that?"

"Well..." Nicky suddenly seemed very off himself, usual self-confidence replaced with apprehension, "I haven't always been a 'he'..." the punk slightly pulled his sleeveless shirt away to partially reveal a thick black, confining garment beneath his cut-off Black Flag shirt. 

Miles frowned, before understanding the punk's meaning. "Oooh…"

Nicky allowed the shirt to cover himself back up, and began to squirm back into his jacket. "When I first showed up as 'myself', I guess I went through the same kinda crap you're going to..." he said, tongue piercing clicking between a gap in his teeth. "But I got through it! Because I had cool friends who took care of me!"

"Sorry, I didn't know..."

"No sweat!" Nicky took a look around their present squat, and then grinned at his small friend. "So you want to do this, or are we spending your first day here?"

Miles, reluctantly, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm... so not looking forward to this..."

"I know, little dude..." the punk raised into a squat and began to exit the hiding place beneath the bleachers. "You coming? I'm not holding your hand if that's what you're waiting for!"

Miles wore a shy grin, despite himself, unfurling his tails and following his new friend, crawling from his position on all fours. "Was your first day a bad one?"

"Yeah..." Nicky admitted, "But you'll get through it!"

With that, the two new friends trudged over the baseball field, Miles at least filled with a little regained confidence. At least he had a friend to help him, after all.  
>

..................................................


	5. The New Kid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is a direct follow-up to chapter 4, Miles' first day of school... I know it's out of order, but I'm not necessarily updating chapters in order anyway. Whatever, please enjoy!

Miles had lost his birth mother as an infant.

He'd been taken in by wild foxes when he was just months old. When they had passed, he had survived on his own for _years_ , until the Wachowskis had taken him into their family. His estimated age, calculated by himself, had been roughly six years old at that time.

In the time he had been alone, he had learned to scavenge. learned to steal what he needed. Hung around scrapyards, learned to take things apart and put them together. He'd learned to speak, learned to read, learned to survive.

But this... this was the biggest challenge he'd ever faced. Standing before a classroom full of thirteen and fourteen year olds, with dozens of staring eyes judging him.

It was horrible. It took all he could to not whip his tails out and launch directly out of the classroom window.

"Everybody?" Mrs Samson, the portly bespectacled teacher, caused Miles to flinch as she clapped her hands and addressed the class, "This is Miles Wachowski. He'll be joining us as our new student. I believe you are all familiar with his father, Sheriff Wachowski, and I expect you to treat him exactly as you would one another. Do I make myself understood?"

An unenthusiastic muttering of 'Yes Mrs Samson' was her response, the entire class still staring at their new classmate. 

"So, Miles!" The woman said, turning and looking down at her fuzzy new student, "Would you like to say something about yourself to the class?"

_Are you kidding me._

Miles looked back up at her with terrified blue eyes. A small chorus of snickering twitched his ears, despite the hood covering his head.

_Are you fucking kidding me._

"Uh..." Miles fiddled with his hands, far too aware that his ungloved digits were plain for all to see, and did his best to think of something he could say.

"Uh... I'm Miles..." He tried not to let his voice squeak, already self conscious enough as it was, "I... I live with my mom and dad... I like to fix stuff..."

Why the hell did she have to put him on the spot like this?

She appeared to recognise his distress, and decided the best thing to do would be to say "Okay, would anybody like to ask Miles a question?"

Almost every hand in the room shot up at once. 

_Great going, teach._

Mrs Samson pointed at one teen, a black-haired freckled kid who considered Miles with shrewd curiosity.

"Yes, Michael?"

"What's wrong with your _face?_ "

Miles shrank back as hushed snickers released from his audience, and he did his absolute best to ensure his ears were tucked tight against his head. The muscles hurt, but he had to lower their profile beneath his blue hood.

"Does anybody..." Mrs Samson continued, blushing a bright red, "have any questions about Miles' interests? What he likes to do?"

Most hands remained unheld-up.

The teacher pointed to one of the few hands that raised. "Hannah?"

A portly girl with bobbed black hair and gothic attire regarded Miles with fascination. "What kind of things to you like to fix?"

Miles' ears perked, despite his best efforts to keep them flattened. An actual question he could answer? He could do this.

"Uh... well, I like to fix anything! I learned to take things apart when I was real young, to see how they worked, and then I learned to put them back together... even when I didn't have proper tools, I liked to figure out a way..."

...................................................…….

It didn't go bad. It didn't go as bad as he thought it would.

The whole first part of that morning, Miles did his best to keep his head down, tails tucked, and just press on with his schoolwork. He was aware of the curious and invasive stares he continued to receive, but kept his head down and did his work.

The morning went by surprisingly quick, and Miles encountered no trouble as the class began to file out. Miles wondered if he had covered himself up more effectively than he thought.

Miles grabbed his rucksack in one hand, hanging back and allowing the other kids to leave before him. When he was sure he was reasonably safe, he exited his chair and headed for the door. Maybe school wasn't going to be so bad. Maybe he'd get on betterhere than he thought. Maybe-

"Hey, this is him! This is the guy!"

Maybe he was a complete idiot.

Miles recoiled and blinked harshly as a cell phone flashlight shone in his face, the familiar forms of Lanky Blond and Tubby Ginger now accompanied by the dark-haired form of 'Michael', who held the phone.

Miles glared at the taller teens with big, frightened eyes.

"Come on, then..." Lanky Blond said, "Say something!"

Miles didn't respond, sinking back into the lockers.

"He can talk, right?" Ginger said to Michael.

"Yeah, he wasgoing on about some gay shit in class!"

Blond leaned forward and glared curiously into Mile's eyes, taking in the orange and white face hidden inside the hood.

"Show us," the imposing teen demanded.

Miles, thrown for a loop, did his best not to allow his voice to squeak as he responded. "Wh... what?"

"Show us!" Blond replied, an unnerving look in his eye, "We know what you're supposed to look like! I wanna see if it's real!"

Miles suddenly understood what the other teen was demanding. "I... I don't wannt to..."

Lanky Blond huffed with frustration, before pointing to his two cronies. "Okay, grab him and get that stupid hoodie off!"

"Wait, wh- AAAGH!!!"

Miles squeaked in alarm as three pairs of hands grabbed him, pinned him, pulling at his hooded top. He felt fur tear from his back as they ripped the hoodie free from his smaller form. His tails flopped freely, and his fur poofed defensively as he became fully exposed.

He hadn't worn a shirt. He didn't need to. And he had fully intended on remaining in the blue top indefinitely. But now he stood, clutching at his denim dungarees, everything hanging out for all to see as his tormentors went ape shit.

"Oh my GOD!!"

"Dude, what the FUCK?!?"

"I told you it was real!!"

Miles cowered beneath their scrutiny, ears flattening to his head and tails curling around to shelter himself. His claws dug into the locker, while all around gangs of teens gawped and pointed at what they'd previously only thought to be largely exaggerated news. But there he was, the Green Hills fox-boy, on display in his full, fluffy, six-limbed glory.

"Dude..." Miles, terrified and fighting the urge to just curl into a ball, shrank beneath the calculating gaze of Lanky Blond, "What the fuck _are_ you?"

Miles Wachowski had no answer. He just squeezed his eyes shut as his tormentors reached out to grab and pull at his fur and flesh and ears and tails, to see if his various additional body parts really were flesh and blood instead of some elaborate costume.

"I think..." A strong, heavily accented voice broke through the commotion, "That my little friend has had enough..."

Miles, still shaking, opened his eyes to find the crowds of kids dispersing, his trio of oppressors shuffling awkwardly beneath the glare of a very large, very muscular, tanned individual.

The older, dreadlocked teen glowered down at the trio from behind thick spectacles, meaty arms folded over a tight shirt that left very little of his strength to the imagination.

"And I think he's going to want his clothes back." the older teen said, his statement more of a demand than a request.

Lanky Blonde muttered something to his ginger crony, who reluctantly handed the blue hoodie back to Miles. Miles, still frightened, hesitated before lightly retrieving it.

"Now get out of here," Mister Dreadlocks said, "Nobody fucks with my friends."

The trio muttered apologies, before turning and skulking off down the hall.

Miles slid his hoodie back over his head, making sure to tuck his tails up his back, and regarded the large teen with gratitude.

"Th... thank you..." he stammered, unable to keep the squeak from his voice.

The dark skinned teen grinned, flashing blindingly white teeth. "No problem, my little friend..." he spoke in that heavy accent of his, "Nicky told me to keep an eye out for you... you aren't so hard to spot, no?"

Miles offered a sheepish smile, slipping his rucksack over his shoulders. He felt relief at the news this very muscular guy was a friend of Nicky's. His eyes scanned the tattoos covering the older teen's arms. He had to be some years older than Miles, maybe even in his last year in school.

"My name is Nathan..." the dreadlocked male said.

"M... Miles!" the shorter, furrier teen replied.

'Nathan' smiled, again setting Miles at ease with his genuinity. "Come on," Nathan said, "I know a safe place where we can spend recess."

Miles dutifully followed, aware of other kids casting curious and fascinated glances at the orange fox-boy as he trailed behind the dreadlocked figure.

Miles suddenly remembered he had left his hood down. He desperately fussed with the hood, following Nathan's feet, attempting to flatten his ears down the best he could. He looked up to find he had followed Nathan into the parking lot... and was being led to a battered old Volkswagen sat on the tarmac.

Miles, alarm bells ringing, paused in his tracks.

Nathan turned as he noticed his small companion had stopped, and regarded the fox-boy curiously. "Are you alright, Miles?"

Miles, stock still, flicked his eyes between the old car and his present company. "Where... are you taking me?"

Nathan appeared to deflate, understanding melting over his features. "I understand. You don't trust me."

"Uh... no! I just... I just..."

"hey, Miles!"

Both males' turned, and Miles felt relief wash over him as a familiar spiky blue head bobbed over the parking lot, accompanied by the black-bobbed goth girl Miles recognised from his class.

Nicky came to a stoop, black boots stomping into the tarmac as he grinned eagerly between Nathan and Miles. "Hey, Nate! I guess you've met Wacks, huh?"

Nathan chuckled. "The little one is safe, yes."

Miles cocked his head. "Wacks?" 

"Nickname, dude!" Nicky grinned, "You like it? I got others if you want! Fuzzball, Nuts, Tails..."

"Wacks is fine..." Miles said, shuffling his feet nervously.

Nicky gestured to his companion, the black-bobbed goth. "Hey Miles, this is my girlfriend Mia!"

The goth girl of hefty proportions popped a pink bubble from her lips and offered a light wave to Miles.

"Hello," she said absently.

"H... hi..."

"Okay, little ones..." Nathan said, revealing a set of keys and heading toward the battered old bug, "Music time, yes?"

The quartet retreated into Nathan's car, within which very loud and growling music emitted from the vehicle's stereo system. Miles swamped himself in his oversized hoodie, unsure how to feel with his predicament. He'd never... hung out before, with _friends_ … he worried that he'd mess things up, that he was being too quiet, that he was ignoring the very people who were being nice to him.

"Hey, dude..." Nicky nudged his shoulder and wore a concerned expression. "You okay? You're quiet..."

Miles looked to him with big, panicked eyes. "Y... yeah!" he stammered, "I'm... fine!"

"You're hiding..." The goth girl, Mia, said absently as she scribbled in a notebook, "It's not good to hide..."

"Hiding?" Miles gulped, aware that his tails and ears were still obscured by the oversized hoodie.

"She's right, dude..." Nicky said, one foot resting on the dashboard as he bobbed his head along to the music, "There's no need to hide with us!"

Miles hesitated, before uncertainly lowering his hood. He shifted in his seat, and breathed a sigh of relief as his tails flopped out, the muscles easing from being coiled up for so long.

"Heh! Looking better already!" Nicky shot him a thumbs-up, then punched Nathan in the arm. "What d'ya think, huh Nate?"

Nathan glanced back and smiled briefly, appearing utterly unfazed by his new friend's appearance. "Very cool, my friend. Very cool."

Miles grinned back, and scratched at the fur beneath his hoodie. He couldn't believe it. He actually had friends, who didn't care what he looked like, and would even step in to protect him against people who did. 

He hadn't felt like this since Tom and Maddie had taken him in.

Miles, happiness settling in his stomach, gestured to the quietly blaring radio. "Who's this?" He enquired of the crunching, fast-paced guitar music.

"Dead Kennedy's!" Nicky replied, grinning back. "You like?"

"I don't know..." Miles replied, "But I think so..."


	6. Adoption Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place back when Miles is seven, and in lieu of a birthday Tom and Maddie help celebrate the one year anniversary of his coming to live with them!
> 
> I'm totally basing Miles' and Ozzy's behaviour here on my own dogs! My puppy is a little shit, but I love him!
> 
> Also, any pedo-shippers can fuck right off.

Tom Wachowski slammed the door to his truck and hummed along to one of his favourite country tunes as he crunched up the gravel driveway of the Wachowski household. He clutched bags of shopping in one hand, and fumbled with his house keys in the other.

It was strange getting off of work this early. Normally he was pulling double shifts left and right. _I guess you get a little leeway when you have a kid to take care of,_ he thought to himself. Not that many folks knew of the curious child he and his wife had taken in a year previously.

Tom entered the house, scuffing his shoes on the doormat, and close the door with a thunk.

"Miles?" the sheriff called into the seemingly empty house, "You okay buddy?"

No reply. Not even Ozzy bounded forth to meet his master. 

Tom shook his head and headed into the house, setting his keys and bags down on a small table as he did so.

He wandered through the hall, shoes clopping against the wooden floor, eventually reaching the room designated 'the laboratory'. He leaned his head to the door, hearing the slight jingle of chiptunes from within. 

He rapped his knuckles against the door. "Miles?" he repeated, "You listening to me?"

He waited, receiving no answer, then with a sigh he turned the knob and entered.

The smell of glue and soldering hit his nostrils as he entered the bombsite that passed for Miles' bedroom, the sound of some old video game music - Tom guessed Mega Man, recognising the title theme from his own youth - buzzing from a nearby tablet. Tools, model-making equipment, toys, legos, action figures, bits and pieces of all kinds of kids' construction games... all sorts littered the floor, along with a big yellow hound sprawled on his back with legs akimbo, everything on display. Nearby the upside-down dog, a fluffy orange figure, barely tall enough to reach Tom's knee, sat cross legged in a pair of denim dungarees, wearing an intense look of concentration as he attempted to piece together a broken clock.

He hadn't noticed Tom's arrival. Too intensly focused on his work.

Tom smirked, raising a finger to his lips as Ozzy looked in his direction. The old dog, still inverted, waggled his tail a couple of times but remained otherwise still.

"So..." Tom boomed, causing orange ears to perk and a white muzzled face to spin around in surprise, "What's going on here?"

Miles, the Wachowskis' resident fox-boy, drooped his ears and removed the goggles from his face, displaying big puppy dog eyes at the sheriff's authoritative tone. He looked just like Ozzy when the dog had been a pup, when he knew he was in trouble.

"I... I wanted to look at it..." Miles stammered, voice very small and timid as he displayed the broken timepiece that had belonged to Tom's grandparents, "It fell off and... it was an accident..."

Tom wore his most serious expression, as he slowly approached the timid orange form through the junk littering the carpet. "You... what?"

Miles shrank back, fur poofing out beneath his dungarees, hugging his own tails defensively. "I... I'm sorry..."

"That's it..." Tom replied, face like stone, "You've done it this time... I think you know what has to happen now..."

The sheriff allowed a very small smirk to play at the edges of his mouth, causing Miles to cock his head in bewilderment.

And then the cub screeched in alarm as Tom, faster than expected, reached down and grabbed him beneath the armpits, lifting him as easily as if he weighed nothing at all. Tom spun the kid around in his grip, supporting him beneath the ass with a forearm, and growling like an animal into the fluff of his neck.

Got him every time. The fox-boy, though intelligent, was gullible.

Miles squeeled and thrashed ineffectually, half screeching half giggling as Tom fussed with him just as he had Ozzy when the yellow retriever had been a puppy. "Stop! STOP!!!!"

"You little monkey..." Tom growled playfully, now scratting roughly between the kid's triangular ears, "What have you been up to?!"

"Nothing!!!!"

"Nothing, huh? Doesn't look like nothing..." Tom ceased his play-fighting, and nudged the broken clock with a toe. "How'd you do that?"

Miles, sat in Tom's arms, drooped his ears apologetically. "I just wanted to take a look inside, but it was heavier than I thought it would be and..." He averted his eyes from Tom's, looking away shamefully. "I tripped and fell, and... it broke..."

Tom gave the kid a small shake, bringing his attention back to him. "Are you okay?" The cop said, suddenly serious, "Did you hurt yourself?"

Miles seemed to pause for a moment, before nodding slightly. "I hurt my elbow..."

"Let's take a look."

Miles held out his arm, and Tom ruffled through the fur in search of the wound. A light graze was visible on the pale flesh beneath the fuzz. Nothing serious, just a scrape.

Tom tutted, and hissed as he drew breath between his teeth. "Looks pretty bad, kid... I think we're gonna have to cut it off..."

Miles' jaw flapped open and he tensed in Tom's grip. "Wh... what?!?"

"Yep, gonna have to take the arm off..." Tom tightened his grip on the fox-boy and headed out the room, careful not to tread on any of his things. "I'll get the saw, we'll get it done straight away..."

"NO! NOOO!!!!!" Miles screeched, again attempting to thrash in Tom's grip, to no avail. 

"Tom laughed mischievously and ruffled the kid's head. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding!" the sheriff chuckled, carrying Miles toward the kitchen. "It's just a scrape, it'll be fine!"

Miles pouted and glared at him. "You scared me!"

"Yeah, but it was funny right?"

"No!"

Tom just grinned and scratched at the kid's neck, Miles opening his jaw in an attempt to nip the offending digit.

Ozzy loped into the kitchen behind them as Tom set the orange fuzzball down, Miles' red and white sneakers pattering into the tiles. Tom retrieved his shopping bags while Miles traded a brief snap of jaws with Ozzy, the older canine too placid to properly fight back too hard against the cub.

Tom set his bags down and flinched as a whimper reached his ears. "Hey!" He turned and gestured sternly to the combatants, two pairs of ears drooping at his scrutiny, "No fighting!"

Miles released his grip on the larger canine, and padded over the kitchen. "I'm just playing..."

"Yeah, you say that now, until he bites you back..." Tom muttered, wondering whether he'd taken in a kid or a puppy. "Now come on, give me a hand with the groceries..."

"What did you get?"

Tom handed Miles items from the shopping bags, glad that the activity had curtailed his feral behaviour for now. Miles couldn't help it, he knew. The kid had been raised in the wild by foxes, and spend much of his life alone. He'd been living with the Wachowskis for almost a year now, and the seven-year old had come a long way, but he still lapsed into these episodes of more feral behaviour.

"Pasta for me and Maddie, chicken steaks for you..." Tom replied, retrieving groceries from the much shorter fox-boy and arranging them in the fridge.

"What's in the other bag?"

Tom laughed. "Grown up juice..." he replied, having made sure the bottle of wine were far out of the kid's grasp, "Not for foxes!"

Miles scrunched his eyes as Tom reached down and scratted between his ears, releasing an irritated squeak when he reached up to adjust the damage done to his head fur. Tom grabbed the wine and set the bottles in the highest part of the refrigerator, the treats and snacks reserved for the Wachowskis' long-term house guest situated near the bottom.

"Is mom at work all night?"

Tom almost dropped the wine in alarm at the small inquiry. He almost fell over. The sheriff turned to find the small fox-boy looking up at him with big eyes, one ear drooped as his head cocked.

"Uh..." _did he just call Maddie mom?!_ "Yeah, Mads is working late... she'll be home about eight this evening..."

Miles drooped his ears and fiddled with his claws. "Will she be mad at me for breaking your clock?"

Tom closed the fridge, still processing Miles' inquiry. "I wouldn't worry, little buddy..." _If he sees her as mom... does that make me..._ "It's just an old clock. Besides, you an fix anything, right?"

Miles' face split into a grin, pointed canines jutting from the edges of his mouth and ears pinning upright. "I know how to effect repairs on a couple of things..."

Tom grinned back, and ruffled the kid's 'hair' again. "Sure you do, buddy! Now..." the sheriff raised an eyebrow, suddemly stern. "You gonna clean that room of yours, or what?"

Miles released a groan at that, and then screeched in alarm as Tom to grabbed him again and scratted beneath his armpits.

"No! NOOO!!!!"

......................................................….

Miles might still have some feral tendencies, but he was still intelligent. Still highly interested in learning how to fix things, and spent a lot of his time in his room tinkering, building, stripping broken appliances and devices to see how they worked, and if he could put them together again.

It was no wonder he had become an avid science fiction fan.

The small fox-boy sat nestled on the sofa between Tom and Maddie, eyes glued to the screen as an old episode of Star Trek played. He was utterly fascinated by the show, along with other staple sci fi series like Star Wars, and Battlestar Galactica, and Firefly. Tom was more of an action guy, so he had very little knowledge on subjects relating to Commander Kirk and Doctor Spock and the Star Trek Enterprise, but he just enjoyed sitting with the kid as he absorbed the science-based series like a sponge.

Tom scratted at the fox at the base of his beck, where Miles seemed to enjoy being petted, and was rewarded with the fluffy bundle leaning further into his thigh as he fiddled with one of Maddie's hair bobbles - one of his various fidgets - and watched with fascination the adventures of the crew of NCC-1701 as they beamed down to some other planet composed of styrofoam and cheap studio effects.

Tom chuckled to himself. He couldn't wait to show the boy some more 'intense' science fiction properties when he got older. The Terminator. Robocop. Blade Runner. All on his shortlist of movies he might be able to watch with the boy one day.

The boy. _His_ boy.

Maybe Jurassic Park? Miles would probably enjoy the scientific aspects of the movie, even if the science was outdated. Tom made a mental note to check if there was anything a little too 'mature' for the small fox-boy at this age.

"What are you giggling at?" Maddie lightly nudged him in the ribs, looking up from her tablet.

"Oh nothing..." Tom replied, watching the tv screen as a pair of red-shirted individuals were disintegrated via ancient special effects by some kind of floating robot. "Just thinking..."

Maddie grinned back, before checking on the status of their small orange friend. "I think somebody's ready for bed..." She said.

Tom leaned over to find Miles utterly comatose, little chest rising and falling as he slept peacefully with his head resting on Tom's thigh.

"You want me to take him?" Tom said, keeping his voice low as not to wake the fluffball.

Maddie nodded, already switching channels as Tom gently lifted his small orange charge. Miles snuffled, curling into a tight ball, as Tom carried him back to his room. The human deposited the tiny fluffy fox-boy into his bed, Miles curling up as Tom buried him beneath the covers.

Tom stood and considered the bundle tucked into his old racecar bed. He thought about what Miles had said earlier in the day. 

How long had it been? Almost a year now...

He had something he needed to talk to Maddie about.

"Night, bud..." Tom said, his only reply a brief flicker of orange ears. He smirked, before turning and making to leave the room.

He did his best not to screech out an expletive as he trod on a lego.

....................................................................

"Mads?" Maddie looked up from her tablet, busy tapping at her social media as some romantic comedy drek played on the tv. Tom carried two glasses of wine, handing his wife one as he set himself down on the leather couch. "Can we talk?"

Maddie raised an eyebrow as she sipped her wine. "Is this about the munchkin?"

Tom nodded, reaching out a hand to pet a particular slobbery dog as Ozzy leaned his head on his master's lap. "He..." Tom chewed over the thoughts in his brain, wondering if he should tell her. _Eh, screw it._ "He called you 'mom' earlier today... asking when you'd be back..."

Maddie almost choked on her wine. "He..." she sputtered, "called me mom?"

Tom smirked and shook his head. "I know... I didn't bring any attention to it... didn't want to pressure him or anything, but he's too smart to not have realised what he said. I think he meant it."

Maddie leaned back in her seat and swirled her wine. "Mom..." she said lightly, trying the word on for size,

"Babe, it's been nearly a year sine he came to live here..."

"yeah a week tomorrow..."

"And we were gonna do something anyway..." Tom mused, "And he doesn't have a birthday... you wanna... make it a little more special?"

Maddie grinned. "You wanna throw Miles a birthday party, don't you?"

"Well, as best we can..." Tom said sheepishly, "And less of a birthday... more of a... adoption day?"

Maddie paused for a moment, before snuggling into her husband's side. "I think..." she said, wrapping an arm around his waist, "That's an adorable idea..."

"Thought you would..." Tom smirked as he raised his glass to his lips, "mom..."

.............................................…

Miles jerked as he squeaked himself awake. Wide eyes scanning his environment, his brain worked to remember where he was.

_Oh right, my room... Mom an... Tom and Maddie's..._

Miles crawled over his bed, lunging for his closest comfort toy - a stuffed, smiling orange fox. The closest thing he had to a person like himself. He needed the consolation right now, especially after dreaming about...

_Mama..._

_Stop it. Don't think about her. You aren't a little kid any more._

Miles couldn't help but release a timid squeak, cuddling into the smiling fox toy.

He almost jumped right out of his skin as a knuckles rapped from the other side of the door.

 _"Miles?"_ da- Tom's voice muffled through the wood, _"You up, bud?"_

Miles perked his ears, and curled into his stuffed fox as the door creaked open and Tom's face appeared in the gap.

"Hey, buddy..." the human said, "You feeling okay?"

Miles nodded timidly, declining to answer verbally.

"Okay then..." tom continued uncertainly, opening the door further, "You hungry? Maddie's making breakfast..."

Miles nodded again, cimbing to his feet and hopping from the bed. He briefly clutched the fox doll, before depositing it on the floor and he padded toward the door.

Miles followed Tom toward the kitchen, the strong smell of cooking meat twitching his black nose.

"Hey, baby!" Maddie turned and grinned as Miles entered the kitchen, busy flipping bacon in a pan. Miles checked the time. Ten-twenty five in the morning. He thought it weird that both Tom and Maddie were home at the same time. They never had days off together.

Maddie plated up bacon and sausages for the fox, catering to his more carnivorous diet, and gestured to the door. "Come on honey, you wanna eat in the lounge?"

This was strange. When did they _ever_ let him eat in the lounge? Something was wrong, and Miles began to worry.

He padded after the adults, fiddling with his tails nervously.

And paused in shock as he entered the living room.

Multi coloured balloons floated in the air, and Maddie kneeled down beside a small pile of colourfully wrapped objects. Miles' breakfast steamed on the nearby coffee table.

The fox looked up at Tom with big, curious eyes. "What's going on?"

"This is for you, buddy!" Tom lowered into a squat, ruffling Miles' head fur as he did. "We know you don't have a birthday, and it's a year since we brought you to live here..."

"So, we figured we'd do something special!" Maddie chimed in, patting at one of the presents. "Consider it an... adoption day! Every year we can celebrate the day you came to live with us!"

Miles's brain couldn't process what he was being told. 

"If that's... something you'd like to do?" Tom added, uncertainty tinging his voice at Miles' lack of response.

The fox boy couldn't help it as tears welled in his eyes, and he hugged into the denim of Tom's leg. "I... yeah! I think I'd like that... thank you, d... Tom!" Miles kicked himself internally at his near-slip, and frowned. "Did you say... adoption?"

"Yeah..." Tom rubbed the back of his head, setting himself down cross-legged on the floor to better talk to Miles. "You know, if you want... we can't make it official or anything, but Maddie and I thought that... y'know, if you like..."

"We can be your mom and dad?" Maddie came to the rescue of her beetroot-red husband, clutching a blue-wrapped gift under one arm. "If you want us to be..."

Miles didn't know what to say. Despite his high intellect, his small, seven year old (estimated, calculated under the assumption his life-span was comparable to a human's) brain couldn't process what they were suggesting. _Why_ they were suggesting.

He never thought he'd have a family, even after a year of living with these people.

Ozzy trotted over to slobber over his face, and Tom reached out to reign in the hound.

"Is that something you'd like?" Tom said softly, eyeing the fox-boy with concern.

Miles, unable to speak, simply nodded timidly.

Tom and Maddie exchanged relieved glances, and Tom ruffled the kid's head again. "Okay buddy... you wanna open your presents? Your mom and I picked you out some things you might like..."

That day was pretty much the best of Miles' short life. He greedily tore apart the wrapped gifts, his claws coming in handy, finding games, fidgets, and best of all a model Star Destroyer he could put together with his model-making equipment, before greedily devouring his breakfast. Tom and Maddie... mom and dad, let him watch whatever he wanted on the tv, and in lieu of cake (his system wasn't good with sweets) they presented to him a very large pot of ribs. Tom faced off against his fox-son in a game of Super Mario Bros, unable to compete despite his decades-long experience with such games, and Maddie cuddled him in her lap.

It was funny. He'd been here for a whole year, but had always assumed it would be a temporary measure... he was sure he'd move on eventually. Such had always been his way, never staying in one place for too long in case he was discovered.

But, it seemed, being discovered had been exactly what he needed... by the right people, at least. Now he had a home. Now he had a life. Now, Miles Wachowski had a _family_.


	7. A new friend

"Miles! Outside, now!"

Miles hurried himself through the house at his mother's command, sopping wet and dripping with water after his shower. He ran out the door to the back yard and, in the open air, shook himself violently and sprayed water droplets everywhere. When he finished, his fur poofed out madly, making him appear even fluffier than usual.

"Jesus..." Maddie said, heading to the shed to fetch the mop, "I'm going to have to dry the whole house..."

"I didn't know there were no towels, _mom!"_ Miles whined petulantly, shaking himself a little more. Ozzy padded out, tongue lolling, and sniffed at the damp fox boy.

"Just put a shirt on please?" Maddie continued, gesturing at his bare fluffy form. "I hope the drain isn't clogged again... Jeez, does every parent have to deal with this?"

She hesitated as she realised what she'd said, and turned sharply to her adopted son. "Miles, I'm sorry, I didn't mean_"

"It's okay mom..." Miles, ears drooped, trudged back into the house to find something to wear. "I know I'm not... normal..."

"Hey, baby..." Maddie reached out and lightly took his shoulder, Miles turning to offer her big puppy dog eyes. "You're perfect the way you are, honey... I'm sorry."

Miles snuggled into her embrace. "It's okay mom."

She scratted at the fur between his ears. They'd never really discovered what Miles truly was, but he was her son and it didn't matter to her. She'd love him all the same.

"Okay honey," She said, releasing him from her grasp, "Go get yourself ready for dinner, yeah? Your dad'll be home soon."

Miles did as she asked, clicking his tongue at Ozzy and turning to make for his room. The old dog loped after him, his yellow tail swaying in time with Miles' own.

Maddie watched her boys depart, and sighed to herself. She couldn't help but wonder where Miles had really come from. She was a veterinarian after all, she liked to learn about creatures under her care. Although legally he was recognised as human, every test she and the Green Hills doctors had proven he was... something else. Something unrelated to both humans, and the common red foxes he resembled. 

Maybe the Wachowskis would never know what their adopted son really was. But he was their boy, and that was good enough.

......................................................….

"So, bud..." Tom Wachowski spoke through a mouthful of potatoes, "Good day at school or no?"

Miles gnawed at a stripped bone of fried chicken, nibbling at the remaining scraps of flesh with his sharp canines. "Meh. Usual. Everything sucks except for shop class. And science."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Those kids giving you any more trouble?"

Miles lowered his head, ears drooped. "No more than usual..."

"Honey, if you're still being bullied, you have to tell somebody!" Maddie reached over and squeezed his shoulder. 

"Yeah. Or kick their ass."

" _Thomas..."_ Maddie shot her husband a warning look, before returning her attention to her son. "Please honey, promise me you'll tell somebody if you're still having trouble?"

"I can take care of myself..." Miles mumbled, fiddling with another leg of chicken.

"That's not the point, bud..." Tom added, taking a swig of his beer. "You can't let people walk over you just because you're different. Do as your mother says, okay kid?"

Miles shrank a little further into his modified chair, his four-foot frame appearing even smaller as he mumbled something beneath his breath.

"What was that, sweetie?" Maddie leaned in closer, prompting her son to repeat himself. 

"Nothing..." Miles replied, fiddling with his food. He scraped back his chair and climbed to his feet, wiping his hands on his denim overalls. "I'm going for a walk..."

"Miles, finish your food please..." Tom mumbled after the fox-boy through a mouthful of food.

"I'm not hungry..."

Tom made to argue, but decided he didn't need the headache. Miles was nearly fourteen years old, a moody teen, and Tom didn't fancy another screaming match. "Okay well... be back in half an hour! And make sure it's a _walk_ , yeah? If I hear one report about fuzzy orange ufo's, you're grounded!"

Miles mumbled back, in that unintelligible way teenagers did. The front door shut behind him.

Maddie sighed, and began clearing plates. "I worry about him..."

"I know," Tom stood and helped her, taking Miles' unfinished food and setting it aside for the teen to devour later. "Since he came out, he's been real self conscious about... himself."

"It..." Maddie began, hesitating for a moment, "I said something earlier and... it was stupid, but I think it might have upset him..."

Tom wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "Go on," he said soothingly, "What happened?"

Maddie told him the story of a very soggy fox, and the frustrated comment she had unthinkingly made.

"I think he thought I was angry at him for being... well, _him_. I feel so stupid, Tom."

"Hey..." the sheriff squeezed his wife's shoulders in his grip and drew her close. "I'm sure he knows you didn't mean anything."

"Still..." Maddie nestled her head on her husband's bicep, looking into the sink as she thought. "Do you ever wonder if... there are others like him? Somewhere in the world?"

Tom shrugged. "He has to come from somewhere..."

"Maybe we should look..." Maddie spoke softly, "He must feel so alone sometimes... being the only one..."

Tom held her tight and planted a kiss on her cheek. "He's not alone... he's got us."

Maddie smiled and rubbed at his chest. "Yeah... yeah, he does..."

...................................................................

 _"I wish I was normal._ "

That's what Miles had muttered beneath his breath back at the house, before taking his brief excursion. He hadn't repeated it for his parents to hear, because he knew it would probably end in a fight. He had a bad habit of running his mouth off.

Parents. He scowled at the word. No they weren't. Not really. How could they be? He wasn't even human...

He wondered why they bothered keeping him around. The freakish fox-boy of Green Hills.

Miles was once again covered up in his big blue hoodie, hood obscuring his ears and tails tucked up and flattened against his back. His rucksack, emptied of schoolwork, helped keep the appendages between his shoulder blades. He didn't feel like putting himself on display right now, even though he was heading deeper into the woods.

He hated school. It had gotten better, but he was all too aware of the stares he got, the way people whispered to one another when they thought he couldn't hear, the outright torment that some kids offered him.

Miles had never had a problem with his appearance before... but now he was out of hiding, living among normal people, he couldn't help but feel overly self-conscious. Stupid fox-boy.

Still... if he was a normal kid... 

Miles removed his hood and allowed his tails to flop from within the hoodie, the poofy fur of the extra appendages now exposed and bristling in the wind. He gave the limbs a brief flex, ironing out the tension in the muscles.

Then, defying the laws of physics, his tails began spinning like helicopter blades, surrounded with crackling yellow electricity, and he took off into the air.

If he was normal, he wouldn't be able to fly.

Miles had no idea how his tails worked, only that he'd been able to fly with them since before he could walk upright. He made sure to remain close to the ground, his toes inches from the forest floor, as he darted between the trees. 

If the kids at school knew he could do this, maybe they'd think he was cool. But he had to keep his powers secret. If anybody knew he literally had super powers... he could kiss any chance at life goodbye. Somebody would want to take him, study him, make him disappear... open him up, see what made the freak tick.

So he had to keep this to himself. Only Tom and Maddie knew of his powers. And it had to stay that way.

Still... out here, alone, flying through the darkening evening... sometimes, not being normal was pretty awesome.

Miles didn't notice the big green eyes that watched him curiously from the cover of the brush, and he didn't notice the flash of blue that began to pursue him.  
.........……....................................…

Miles leaned his head forward, pointed muzzle piercing the air like the nose of a supersonic fighter jet. His arms spread behind him like wings, adjusting his attitude as the thrust from his tails powered him through the air at improbable speeds.

He couldn't help but grin. Flying was the best. And he could fly _fast_. He increased the thrust, yellow power crackling around his tails, the laws of known physics utterly thrown out of the window. He was reaching the edge of the forest, he knew, heading toward the highway. He didn't care. It had been too long since he'd taken a proper flight, and if anybody saw him... what were they going to say? 

Miles barrelled out from the forest and kicked up a trail of dust as he lined himself up with the highway, briefly checking both ways to find the road was deserted. Yes. This is what he needed. Now without any obstacles to block his flight path, Miles increased his thrust even further, fur plastered against his skin, arms pinning even further back. The white lines of the road flickered beneath him, so rapidly he couldn't discern individual stripes. His heart raced. He had _miles_ of empty road ahead of him. He could go faster.

Faster. Faster. _Faster._

_"Hey mister! You're pretty fast!"_

Miles' heart almost stopped completely as a small, utterly unexpected voice called at him over the rush of wind in his ears. He jerked his head to check beside him... and seriously considered he was hallucinating.

Beside the flying fox-boy, keeping pace as easily as if he were taking a light jog... a small, blue, spiked creature beamed up at him, green eyes regarding him with utter fascination.

Miles released a startled squeak as his tails twisted wrong, and he tumbled from the sky. He did his best not to hit the tarmac, lunging for the soft grass of the surrounding fields, and tumbled end over end, sparking with yellow electricity as he crashed and burned.

Eventually, battered and bruised but thankfully still in one piece, Miles sat himself up and attempted to shake the starts from his vision.

That had been close. He'd never crashed at such speeds before. He was lucky he hadn't broken anything.

"Woah, mister! Are you okay?"

Miles, a nervous wreck after his crash, jumped with a start as his little blue hallucination flashed into existence before him. He scrambled back, eyes wide as they took in the small blue creature, the big green eyes looking at him with concern.

"Wh..." the fox-boy stammered, "What _are_ you?!"

The spiky blue head cocked, and the creature grinned. "I'm a hedgehog!"

"Oh..." Miles said dumbly, assuming he was seeing things. "Of... of course you are..."

"I've never raced anyone that could move so fast!!" The 'hedgehog' squeaked, disappearing before his eyes in a blue flash. Miles suddenly felt small hands excitedly fussing with his tails, and he swung his head around to find the hedgehog investigating the appendages.

The sensation of touch was unmistakable. This creature was no hallucination.

"WOW!! You have two tails?! Is that how you fly?!"

Miles swallowed a lump in his throat as he observed the little creature. "I... I guess..."

"THAT'S SO COOL!!!" The hedgehog zipped around to Miles' front, and began curiously inspecting his face. "I've never met anybody like me before..." the hedgehog said lightly, observing Miles with something approaching awe. 

"Wait..." Miles began, "what do you m-"

"What's your name, mister?!"

Miles, taken aback, simply flapped his jaw in response. "Uh... Miles? Miles Wachowski?"

The hedgehog screwed his brow at the name. "Miles... Wazowski? That's a funny name!"

"Oh, uh... thanks, I guess..." Miles couldn't help but feel fascinated at the strange blue creature, that had somehow managed to keep pace with him despite the speed he was flying. "Do you... have a name?"

The hedgehog's peach muzzle split into a huge grin, and he set his hands on his small hips proudly. "I'm Sonic!"

"Okay..." Miles struggled to his feet, wincing at the aches in his limbs. "Okay, Sonic the... hedgehog... where did you come from?"

"I saw you flying in the forest! I'm not s'posed to talk to people, but you looked so cool!! And I've never raced anyone that fast before! I wanted to see how fast you could go!"

"Okay..." Miles looked over the smaller creature with intense curiosity, 'Sonic's mere existence causing a million questions to fire inside his brain. He decided to ask one that the kid could answer. "Where do you live, Sonic? Do you live in the woods?"

Sonic nodded eagerly. "I have my own cave! It's got all kindsa cool stuff inside!!"

Miles frowned. A cave? 

"That sounds cool!" he said, his shock at the emergence of his little friend having worn off a little. "How long have you lived there?"

Sonic lowered his head at that, ears drooping. "A little while..."

Miles understood the self-proclaimed hedgehog was reluctant to answer. He looked around, remembering they were currently in the middle of an empty field. "Hey, Sonic..." the teen lowered himself and wore his best welcoming grin. "Do you wanna see where I live?"

Somic piped up, cocking his head with interest. "Do you have a cave too?"

"No!" Miles replied, "I have a house!"

"You have a _house?!_ " Sonic's eyes widened in awe at this, as though living in a house was the craziest concept he'd ever heard. 

Miles nodded. "Yeah, and it's got lots of cool things I can show you! I live there with my mom and d-"

Miles paused... and then squeaked in alarm as he realised how _dark_ it was getting.

"Oh, _shit!!!_ " he exclaimed, checking his phone to find he had been out far longer than the half-hour Tom had said. Several missed calls were logged on the phone, having gone unnoticed. 

Sonic cocked his head at the expletive. "Shit!"

Miles, despite his predicament, couldn't help but snort with laughter. He didn't know how old Sonic was, but he had to be too young for swears. 

"Hey, I have an idea!" The teen said, "How about we race back to my house? I'll go as fast as I can, and you have to see if you can keep up! Does that sound fun?"

"Ha! That sounds _easy!_ " the hedgehog squeaked, zipping around Miles in an excited blur.

"Okay..." Miles reached out and offered his hand to the hedgehog, Sonic briefly sniffing at Miles' palm before taking the orange furred hand in his own small white glove. "We'll get back to the road, and then we'll start our race... but we have to be careful, okay? We can't let anybody see us!"

"That's okay!" Sonic replied, hopping along as Miles led him back to the deserted highway, "I'm good at hiding!"

"Yeah, I bet you are..." Miles replied, wondering exactly how he was going to explain this to Tom and Maddie.

.......................................................................

Miles ducked his head around the corner of Elm Street, making sure the coast was clear as he adjusted the straps to his rucksack. "It's okay, little buddy! We're clear!"

From his rucksack, a pair of pointed ears emerged, followed by big, cautious green eyes. 

"Nobody there?" Sonic's little voice chirruped from the pack.

"Nope, you're safe!"

Sonic 's head plopped out of the rucksack, black nose sniffing and ears twitching as Miles began to trek down the street. The hedgehog had become extremely wary when they approached the town, and Miles had offered him a ride in his pack. Sonic was small enough to fit, and weighed practically nothing, so the teen was happy to carry the hedgehog if it made him feel safe.

"Do you live with the big people?" Sonic said, voice small and wary.

"Uh-huh!"

"Are people supposed to know about you?"

"Well, people have only known about me for a little while..." Miles responded, "But as long as I don't use my powers, I'm pretty safe!"

He declined to tell Sonic about the bullying he received thanks to his 'unique' nature.

Sonic looked around the big houses curiously. "Are we near your house?"

"Yeah... just a little further..." Miles racked his brain, wondering how he was going to break this to Tom and Maddie... at least he had a good reason as to why he was so late coming back.

He still couldn't believe it. Another creature. Another _person_ like him.

What did this mean? Were there others like Sonic? Like him? Was Miles part of a new and emerging species of intelligent, tool-using mammals with amazing super powers?

Too many questions. First he had to introduce his little friend to his parents.

Before he knew it, Miles had lead them straight back to his house. The lights were still on. Mom and dad were still up.

He hoped he could explain things before he was in too much trouble.

"Well buddy..." Miles said, reaching out for the door handle, "Here we are..."

Sonic's eyes went wide as he took in the size of the home. Miles turned the handle and entered the house, scuffing his sneakers on the mat as he did so.

As the door closed with a thunk, Miles was subjected to one very pissed Tom Wachowski.

"Miles?! Do you have ANY idea how late it is?!?"

Miles heard a squeak as Sonic curled back up inside his pack, and his ears drooped as his adoptive father stormed down the hall.

"S... sorry, dad!" Miles' ears drooped and he shrank as Tom approached, his four-foot frame reducing even more, "I... lost track of time..."

Tom hesitated, and his expression softened as he considered the fox-boy. 

"Sorry bud..." the elder Wachowski said, lowering more the Miles' height, "You just... had us worried, is all..."

Miles looked to his shoes, as Tom shook him by the shoulder. 

"Where did you get to?" Tom continued, "I said half an hour!" His eyes flickered over the torn and dirty clothes that hung from Miles' skinny frame. "You better not have been flying, bud..."

"No, dad! And..." Miles began, before hesitating for a moment, "And there's a good reason I'm late!"

"Oh yeah?" Tom raised an eyebrow, "Please... do tell..."

Miles removed his rucksack and set it on the floor. "Okay... but you have to promise not to freak out, okay? It's... complicated..."

Tom watched, bemused as Miles poked his nose into the pack. "It's okay little buddy... you can come out now..."

Tom frowned. "Uh... bud? What you got in..."

The human trailed off, eyes widening in shock... as a small, spiky blue creature emerged from the pack, regarding him with frightened green eyes.

Tom tried to figure out what he was looking at. It looked like... some kind of tiny bear or something, with spiky hair... and shoes and gloves. About the same size Miles had been when he'd been discovered as a six-year old child.

"Miles?" Tom said, voice croaking, "Wha… _who_ is this?"

"This is Sonic," Miles replied, as the blue creature hugged protectively into his leg, "And he's a hedgehog!"

.............................................................

"So... Sonic..." Maddie observed the little blue creature with fascination as he sniffed at the food she had set out on the table, black nose twitching at the variety of meats, vegetables, and potatoes. "What would you like?"

The 'hedgehog' looked over the foods with big, curious eyes, before perking his ears and looking over to Miles. The fox-boy was busy gnawing at his leftover chicken, having worked up an appetite after his flight that didn't happen. 

"Can I have what Tails is eating?"

Miles almost choked on his food, coughing up a chunk of fried chicken. 

"Hey, cough it up..." Maddie patted at her adopted son's back, "You okay baby?"

Miles nodded. "Wrong hole..." he muttered, before looking at Sonic questioningly. "What did you call me?"

"Tails!" The hedgehog said cheerfully, bright green eyes shining happily. "Because you have two of them, and you can fly with them, and that's super cool!!"

"Oh, _can he?_ " Tom looked over to his orange son, who cowered sheepishly beneath his scrutiny.

"Yeah, I... uh, I told him..." Miles stammered unconvincingly.

"Uh huh, sure kid."

"And he's super fast!" the hedgehog went on, as Maddie deposited some more leftover chicken on his plate, "We had a race, and he was almost has fast as me!!! I'm still faster though!" 

"Miles..."

"Okay, I _might_ have taken a quick flight!" The teen said in defeat, "But it was dark, nobody saw me, _relax, guys..._ "

Sonic, still grinning, leaned back in his chair and adopted a similar slumped posture to the fox-boy. " _Relax_ , guys..."

Tom couldn't help but snicker at the hedgehog as he mimicked Miles. "We'll talk about this later..." the cop said, regarding his orange son with a raised eyebrow, " _Tails..._ "

Miles' ears drooped, midway through chewing on his stripped chicken bone.

"Where do you come from, honey?" Maddie said gently, leaning to talk to Sonic, 

Sonic seemed to think for a moment, as though considering whether to speak his thoughts, before giving Maddie a grin and displaying chicken-speckled teeth. "From Mobius!"

The Wachowskis simply glanced between one another, bewildered.

"Sweetie?" Maddie said, "Can you tell us where Mobius is?"

Sonic frowned for a moment, before pointing toward the night sky through the kitchen window. "Up there!"

There was a dull clunk as Miles' drumstick fell from his fingers and hit the plate. Tom and Maddie exchanged a look of shock, before regarding their son with concern.

"S... Sonic..." Miles stammered, eyes wide and constricted, "When you say 'up there'... do you mean... _space?_ "

Sonic nodded happily. "Longclaw made me go because of my powers... I haven't seen another person like me for a real long time..."

The little hedgehog looked between the speechless Wachowskis, his ears drooping as he worried he might be in trouble. 

"But... but then I saw Tails, and got excited because he has powers too, and... and I just wanted to talk to him..." His big green eyes filled with fright. "I'm sorry!"

"It's okay sweetie..." Maddie reached out and pet his shoulder, the hedgehog jerking with alarm for a moment before nuzzling into her soft hand, "You aren't in trouble... you want some more chicken?"

There was a scrape, as Miles shoved back his chair and made to leave the room.

"I'm... going to the bathroom..." he mumbled, leaving the kitchen without another word.

"Miles?" Maddie called after him, shooting a pointed look at Tom. "Tom, can you..."

"I'll go talk to him," Tom said, before wearing the most welcoming smile he could manage right now at Sonic. "Maddie will take care of you, okay bud? Make sure you get some of these greens down you!"

Sonic looked between the two adults. "Is Tails okay?"

"Tails is fine, sweetie..." Maddie hushed him, raising her eyebrow at Tom.

Tom nodded. "Be back in five."

The elder Wachowski let out a heavy breath as he left the kitchen. This... this was going to take some figuring out.

.......................................….............

Miles wasn't in the bathroom, as it turned out. Instead he had retreated to his bedroom, the door slightly ajar as a sock lay wedged between it and the wall. Tom knocked anyway, alerting his son of his presence before entering.

"Hey bud?" The sheriff said, causing an orange ear to twitch but otherwise receiving no response from the fox... boy. He entered the room, careful not to tread on any of Miles' junk, and set himself on the bed beside his adopted son. 

The two sat in silence, Miles simply fiddling with some miniature starship from some obscure science fiction show. 

"You... still haven't cleaned your room, then..." Tom said, unsure how to break the ice.

"All this time..." Miles whispered, almost to himself, as he stared at the model spaceship in his hands. "All this time, and I never knew..."

"Well..." Tom said, trying to help ease his son into the realisation, "We never really knew where you came from, bud..."

Miles set down his model and stared at his own hands, as though contemplating their construction. Eight fingers. Two opposable thumbs. Just like a human's.

"You feeling okay, kid?" Tom reached out and rubbed at the base of Miles' neck, where the kid had always enjoyed. The teen didn't respond.

"I... never even considered the possibility that I could be from..." Miles's voice was barely a croak, as his brain scrambled to process the information he had been made privy to, "That I could be from..."

"Another planet?" Tom added helpfully, Miles staring at him in alarm. "Yeah, bud. Colour me surprised as well."

"A whole world... full of people just like me..." Miles said, unable to process the possibility.

"Well..." Tom gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze. "At least that explains why there's never been anyone like you... until now, I guess."

Miles bit his lip, and shook his head. "Dad, there's... something I never told you... about me, before you found me?"

Tom turned his son's head and made him look into his eyes, patting his back in support. "You can tell me anything, Miles. Go on."

"I..." the fox rubbed his hands together, evidently hesitant to divulge the information. "I remember my mom... my birth mom, I mean..."

Tom raised an eyebrow, but politely awaited Miles' revelation.

"I don't remember much..." Miles went on, "Only... she gave me my name... and she was like me. Like, a person. _Humanoid._ "

"Do you know what happened to her?"

Miles sniffed, and Tom realised the teen was holding back tears. "She died... she must have got sick... I was really little, like a few months old..." 

Tom reached over and pulled him into a hug. "Hey bud, it's okay..."

"Why am I here?" Miles sniffed, staring into nothing, "If I'm really from... another world, why did my mom bring me here? And if she didn't, what would have..."

"Hey, look at me..." Miles complied, looking back up to the human. "I know this is a lot to take in, but whatever happens... you have Maddie and I to help you through it, okay?"

Miles deflated, ears drooping. "I shouldn't even be here... I don't belong..."

"Hey, don't talk like that!" Tom gave his adopted son a shake, giving him a stern look. "Finding you in that alley was the best thing to ever happen to me, you hear? I never thought I'd make a good dad... but then you came along, and it's like... I got a real family... and wherever you might be from, even if you're an _alien fox_ , you're still my son. Never think you don't belong here, Miles. This is your home."

Miles sniffled again, looking around the room he'd inhabited since six years old. "I wonder how he got here... I wonder how _I_ got here..."

"Well," Said Tom, giving the fox a shake, "I'm guessing our little friend's going to be sticking around for a while... I'm sure we can ask him?"

Tom pat Miles on the shoulder and stood. "Come on," he said, "Better get back while there's still food left..."

"Okay..." Miles said, managing a small grin. "Thanks dad..."

"Anytime, kiddo. Oh, and one more thing..." Tom raised a stern finger, halting the fox as he hopped from his bed, "If I ever find out you've been flying without our permission again, _Tails_ , you're grounded. Literally."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so some people have been asking if Sonic would show up in this au... and I got ideas! So here he is, the blue boi! The ages have been inverted in this instance. Sonic's backstory is virtually the same as in the movie, though he is six years old to Miles' thirteen years, and hasn't been in Green Hills for very long, instead wandering the country from place to place to remain hidden. 
> 
> He also still has his rings, which may or may not see some use...


	8. Home away from Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning - there's some pretty bad bullying and cussing in this chapter.

"Tails! TAILS!!"

Miles Wachowski jerked awake, having fallen back asleep after being woken several minutes earlier. He blinked hard and rubbed at his tired blue eyes while before him, wearing a big excited grin, the blue spiky form of a small alien hedgehog kneeled on his bed.

"Huh?" Miles said groggily, shifting himself up on one elbow, "Sonic? What's the matter?"

Sonic the Hedgehog grinned happily and held out a piece of paper. "Look what I made!!"

Miles curiously took the paper in his hands and turned it to find a rough drawing, pretty decent for the hedgehog's estimated six years old, of the blue creature himself... as well as a taller orange figure with two tails, and the even taller forms of a pink human and a brown human. A pink four-legged beast stood to one side. The Wachowski family, with their new little addition. 

"Why is Ozzy pink?" said 'Tails', after a few moments.

"I didn't have a yellow pen!!"

"Huh..." Miles shrugged and handed it back to his little friend, doing his best to look approving. "It's pretty good! You showing to mo... Tom and Maddie?"

Sonic flopped back on his rear and clutched his drawing, grin fading. "I dunno…"

"Why not? They'll probably like it!"

"I dunno…" Sonic repeated, looking sadly through the paper.

Miles clambered out from his covers and crawled over the bed, twin tails dragging limply behind him. "Okay... well, uh... what time is it? You want food?"

Sonic nodded, happy smile returning. "Yeah!"

Miles stumbled out of bed, the thirteen year old unaccustomed at waking so early during a holiday week, leading his little blue friend toward the Wachowski household's kitchen. Tom and Maddie were both at work today, leaving Miles in charge. The fox-boy in question yawned, displaying pointed canines, as he searched the refrigerator for something for them both to eat.

He grabbed out some cooked sausages and butter. He sliced up the sausages, stuck them on a plate, and bunged them in the microwave. He buttered the bread. Soon, two plates of sausage sandwiches were slapped together and ready for consumption. Easy.

"Here you go, little dude..." Miles set a plate of sandwiches in front of Sonic, the little blue hedgehog sniffing curiously at the creation.

Miles flipped on the kettle, grabbed the nearby can of coffee (today's note read 'no alien space foxes OR hedgehogs - paws off! Love dad'), and began concocting himself some much needed caffeine. He was only thirteen, but with his usual morning state, he needed it to live.

Miles turned to find Sonic nibbling at his first sandwich, a little reluctantly.

"You want some ketchup with that?" Miles offered.

Sonic's ears perked and he wore a curious expression. "What's ketchup?"

"What's ketchup? Oh, uh..." _Seriously, kid doesn't know what ketchup is?_ "It's sauce!" Miles said, retrieving said condiment from its place in the overhead cupboard and presenting it to Sonic. "You put it on your food! It makes it taste different!"

Sonic sniffed at the bottle in Miles' hand, then nodded inquisitively. Miles poured the kid a dollop of sauce, and Sonic nibbled at the food with renewed interest.

"Good?" The fox-boy said, heading to retrieve his coffee.

Sonic seemed to think it over for a moment, before nodding happily. "It's nice!"

"Good..." Miles set himself down with his caffeinated beverage and his hastily assembled sandwich and rested his head in one hand. He watched the small blue creature, as he messily ate his breakfast, with fascination. An alien. He was a legit alien, from another planet. 

_Just like me._

That had been a lot to take in. Miles had never known of his origins... but literally being from another world entirely?

He wondered what it was like. How far away from Earth it was. How Sonic had gotten here in the first place... how _he_ had found himself here, with the mother he had lost too young.

The Wachowskis had tried to coax more information out of the hedgehog... but he had clammed up good, after Miles' reaction to learning he was an alien. That hadn't been in front of Sonic, but the little blue fuzzball was more observant than he at first appeared, and had become evasive and none responsive at further probing of his world. His life. His people.

He had, however, clung to Miles like he was some kind of superhero. Which was bizarre. As far as Miles was concerned, he was just some freakishly mutated kid.

"So..." Miles said, munching on his breakfast, "What, uh... do you wanna do today?"

Sonic cocked his head, and Miles had to suppress a laugh as he found the kid had ketchup all around his mouth.

"I dunno!" The hedgehog squeaked, beaming from his ketchup-plastered face, "can we go for a race?!"

"I dunno, little buddy..." Miles replied, "I don't think mom and dad would like that..."

"Oh... right..." The six year-old hedgehog replied glumly, fiddling with his sandwich, "Because of our powers..."

"Yeah..." Miles replied. Honestly, when they were out in the sticks, they'd probably get away with showing off their other-worldly abilities. But... Miles was a little reluctant to further give his adoptive parents reasons to ground him. Tom and Maddie Wachowski were extremely defensive of their adopted fox son.

Still... maybe it would do some good to get out.

"Hey... Sonic?" The fox-boy said carefully, "You know... maybe we could go for a quick run?"

Sonic looked at him eagerly, curiosity over his blue and peach face, "Won't your mom and dad get mad?"

"Only if they find out!" Miles grinned conspiratorially, munching on his own sandwich, "You can show me where you live!"

Sonic beamed in delight at the prospect. "I can show you my cave!!" He said excitedly, before sudden panic descended over his face, and he hopped from his seat and did hyper-fast laps of the table. "OH NO I FORGOT!!!!!!"

"Woah! Woah, slow down dude!!" Miles raised his hands and attempted to calm the panicking hedgehog. "What's the matter?"

"My rings!!" Sonic came to a sudden stop, nervously fumbling with his hands, "I forgot about my rings!! We need to go now!!!"

"Uh..." Miles was utterly confused, reluctantly allowing Sonic to pull him from his seat by the hand, "You... wanna go there now?"

"Yes! I need to go get my rings!!! Longclaw said they're super important!!! Come ON!!!!"

"Okay, buddy..." Miles let his breakfast go and watched as Sonic hopped impatiently. "Just let me get my clothes on first, okay?"

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Miles had opted for less obscuring clothing today. clad in a pair of battered old jeans, altered with a reverse gap that he could button around his tails, and an unzipped red hoodie. He'd chosen to wear actual hiking boots today too, his old red and white sneakers too battered to deal with the terrain in the forests. The boots rubbed his feet, and he winced at the future blisters he would have to deal with later.

He'd also brought his backpack along, which contained water, snacks... and, formerly, a blue space hedgehog, who now zipped excitedly around before him.

"Hey, dude!" Miles called after his little friend, "Don't go too far!! Stay where I can see you!!!"

Sonic zipped back by his side, pulling one of Miles' old blue hoodies around himself. Miles had insisted on the hedgehog wearing the garment. Miles knew from experience that getting used to clothes was odd at first, but were a big boon when dealing with the weather.

"Are we close?" Miles said, hooking his thumbs through the straps of his rucksack.

"Uh-huh..." Sonic squeaked a confirmation. 

Miles looked down at the hedgehog with curious blue eyes. "How long have you lived out here?" He said, as Sonic trotted beside him. 

"A little while..." Sonic replied, "I don't go near the town much though... big people are scary..."

"Yeah..." Miles replied, thinking back to his own time surviving alone, only venturing near civilisation to scavenge for food or tools. "I know..."

Sonic regarded him with fascination. "Did you used to live in the woods too?"

"Sure did..." the fox replied, "I lived on my own just like you!"

"Who sent you here?" Sonic replied tentatively. Miles licked his lips.

"My mom..." He said carefully, "My real mom, I mean..."

"Real mom?"

He trailed off at that, feeling a wince of remorse at his phrasing. Maddie might not be his biological mother, but Miles loved her just the same.

"I mean, the mom who.... had me...." Miles hesitated, unsure how much he should explain to a six year old child. "She brought me here when I was really small, and..." He again trailed off in his statement, the faded memories of yellow fur and worried blue eyes in his mind. 

"What happened to her?" said Sonic.

Miles grimaced. "She's... gone..."

"You mean dead..."

Miles closed his eyes and shook his head, cursing himself for underestimating the kid's intelligence. "Yeah..." he replied. "Yeah... dead..."

Well... this subject had gotten dark quick. Miles tried to push the vague, faint memories of his birth mother from his mind. He wished he could have met her. Wished he could see his homeworld, just once... what was it like there? On a world where he might be able to... belong? He couldn't imagine it.

"Tails?"

Miles suddenly realised he'd been daydreaming, his mind lost in thoughts of his homeworld. 

"Tails!"

"Sorry bud..." Miles replied. "I was miles away..."

Heh. _Miles_ away.

"We're here!" Sonic said eagerly, zipping over to a raised knoll in the brush. He hopped up and down, overly-large hoodie rippling with the motion, as Miles clambered through the forest floor to reach him. He followed close as Sonic led him through to a mossy entrance, and down into a rocky cavity in the ground.

"This is my cave!!!" Squeaked Sonic, zipping around before spreading his arms in welcome, green eyes shining. "This is where I live!!"

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Miles looked around the cold, sparsely decorated cave, and felt appalled that this was where the very young hedgehog-boy lived. The place wall filled with moss, and it was freezing in here. A few knick knacks lay around, an open rucksack surrounded with comic books, an old and tatty beanbag chair, some packets of chips, some blankets and warm clothes... the 'lots of cool stuff' Sonic had insisted his home was filled with amounted to little more than a hobo's possessions.

The fox watched as his hedgehog friend scrambled into the space beneath a rock, and emerged with a small brown bag in hand. He grinned toothily as he held it up in display. "Rings!"

Miles frowned. "I... don't understand..."

Sonic hummed and reached into the bag, producing what was definitely a small, golden ring. He held it up for the taller fox to see.

Miles gently took the thing in his hands and inspected it. There appeared to be nothing remarkable about the thing, not even a band of Elvish writing around the outer edge. He raised an eyebrow. "This... is how you travel between worlds?"

Sonic nodded happily. "You just throw it like this..." He swung his arm in a gentle sweeping motion, "And think about the place you wanna go! It's real easy! Like magic!"

Miles perked his ears at that, a sudden realisation dawning on him. If it were that simple... he closed his eyes and concentrated, trying to remember something... anything... about his home planet.

_Mobius. Home._

He tossed the ring into the air before him, just as Sonic had said, concentrating hard on the place he wanted to see. The ring spun end over end, until it blossomed impossibly into a wide, shimmering portal, a film of energy rippling within the inner space.

Miles' jaw dropped as beyond he saw orange skies... vast green mountains surrounded by strange forests... the terrain twisting and warping into improbable shapes... he swore he could see settlements there, small wooden huts and shacks... an alien world, far away, in some unknown corner of the universe.

His world. Home.

And then there was a flash of blue, and a small blue alien hedgehog was stood, arms spread as wide as he could, blocking Miles from entering the portal.

"No!!" Sonic squealed, Miles' blue hoodie hanging loosely from his small form, "We can't go!!!"

Miles stared longingly at the other world beyond the ring portal, the world from which he had come. "I just..." He whispered, eyes locked on the sight of a setting alien sun, "I just wanted to see..."

Sonic speared to slump, big eyes looking up at his fox friend, before he turned and, through some unknown mechanic, ordered the portal to close. The ring slowly shrank back to its original size, before it fizzled away in a spark of orange, its energy spent.

Miles's heart dropped as the sight of his long lost homeworld vanished before his eyes.

"I'm sorry..." Sonic said, timidly playing with his hands, ears drooped. "Longclaw said I could never go back... because of my powers... if somebody knows about me, they'll come for me... probably you too..."

Miles remained still for a few moments, ears drooped and tails slumped... before he swallowed his nerves and nodded. "Yeah... sorry, little dude... I guess that was stupid of me, huh?"

"It's okay..." Sonic said quietly, "Sometimes I think about going back too... but I promised Longclaw I wouldn't..."

Miles nodded and sat himself down on a nearby rock. "Who was this Longclaw?" He said carefully, reminding himself her was talking to a six year old, "She sounds like she was special."

Sonic hutched onto the rock beside his friend, shrinking into his oversized hoodie. "She was my caretaker... kind of like my mom... she looked after me since I was really little..."

So, the kid never knew his real parents either. Miles wondered if they were still out there somewhere, on Mobius, wondering what had ever happened to their super speedy blue son. 

He wondered if his own father were still alive... and what he would be like. Maybe one day... he could find out.

Until then, Miles had a home here, on Earth. With Tom and Maddie Wachowski. 

"Hey, buddy..." Miles gave his hedgehog friend a small shake, Sonic's frame feeling impossibly small beneath the hoodie, "How about we get some of your stuff together, and bring it back home?"

Sonic looked up and frowned. "Home?"

"Yeah!" Miles nodded and grinned, displaying his pointed canines. "With my mom and dad? Better than living in a cold and draughty cave, right?"

Sonic's eyes widened disbelievingly. "You think they'll let me stay?"

Miles squeezed his little friend's shoulder. "Absolutely! They already have one space-animal son why not another?"

Sonic beamed and lunged into a hug, wrapping his spindly arms around Miles' waist. Miles hesitated, before hugging the kid back, careful not to prick himself on the hedgehog's spines. "Come on, dude..." The space fox said as he climbed to his feet, "Let's go home..."

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It took them longer to return home than it had to reach Sonic's cave, the two boys laden with whatever of Sonic's things they could carry. As it turned out, most of the hedgehog's possessions could be stuffed into their backpacks, though the little blue space hog had had to say goodbye to his beanbag.

Sonic had chattered about their homeworld on their way back, much to Miles' delight. The hedgehog told the fox all about how he used to run rings around his island home, through strange forests and along crumbling trails, avoiding traps set by the hunters who lived there. Miles asked him if he'd ever seen any other twin-tailed fox mobians. The hedgehog was unsure.

When they reached the town, Miles took care to take the quieter routes. People didn't know about Sonic yet, and he'd prefer to keep it that way until Tom and Maddie were ready. fortunately, Sonic's big blue hoodie concealed him completely, disguising him as just a small kid. And if anybody asked... Miles was sure he could think on his feet.

It wasn't long though until they ran into trouble.

"Hey! Fox-boy!!"

The fur down Miles' back stood on end as he recognised that voice, and his ears perked as though scanning for predators. Sonic looked up at him curiously, and he knelt down to regard the small hedgehog with serious eyes. "Sonic? I need you to hide for just a short while..."

"What's happening?" The hedgehog whimpered, big green eyes glistening with concern.

"Just hide, Sonic! These guys are bad news!"

Sonic, though fearful, did as he was told and went to ground in a nearby hedgerow, and Miles stood to face his tormentors.

Three teens, one blond, one ginger, and one with black hair, roughly his age but taller, approached. He recognised these as Cliff, Tony, and Michael. The three jerks who had bullied him his first day of school, and had given him grief ever since.

He prayed they hadn't seen Sonic.

Miles stood his ground, feeling pathetically small before the larger, _human_ teenagers. Cliff, the blond one, wore a cruel look in his eyes as he stood before his cronies.

"What are you doing out here, fox-boy?" The teen sneered, shoulders set menacingly, "This is our turf!"

"Last I check this was a public park..." Miles replied, glaring up at the teen,doing his best to maintain his composure. He could easily speed away from the much slower humans if he wanted to... but he didn't dare expose his powers... or leave Sonic.

"What was that?" Tony, the barrel chested ginger, grunted threateningly, "You being a smart-ass?"

"Fucking freak!" chuckled Michael, their black haired comrade.

Miles swallowed his suddenly dry throat, heart beginning to race. His limbs were suddenly filling with adrenaline. He'd seen this too many times at school, with other kids. If these assholes were crazy enough to get into a fight where there were adults around..."

"I'm just going home..." Miles mumbled, trying not to let his ears droop, "I don;t want any trouble..."

"The fuck is it with you, huh?" Cliff reached out and gave him a shove, forcing the smaller teen back, "your mom fuck a German shepherd or something?" 

Miles released a low rumble from his throat at the insult, glaring up at his tormentor. The other teens laughed.

"What?" Cliff hissed, towering over his victim, "What're you gonna do, fox boy? get your daddy to arrest us?" He sneered as he gestured around the empty park. "The fuck are you gonna prove anything, huh?"

Miles hesitated, feeling his limbs shaking with adrenalin... and the huffed. They were trying to bait him. Trying to trigger his feral tendencies. He wouldn't let them. Wouldn't rise.

"I'm going home..." The fox muttered, offering them his best condescending expression before he turned tail and began to walk away. He shot a glance to Sonic's hiding place, hoping the hedgehog would understand and follow.

"Hey! Where the fuck do you think you're going?"

Miles yelped as a hand clapped onto his shoulder and roughly spun him round, and he felt primal fear as he found himself staring fearfully up at Cliff, the older teen's hands gripping his shoulders.

He realised now he could smell alcohol on the teen's breath.

"Leave me alone!!" Miles whimpered, struggling in Cliff's grip.

"You got a lotta fur under there..." Cliff grinned evilly as his cohorts flanked him. He tugged at Miles' hoodie. "You don't need this, right? Or pants?"

Miles felt fear run down his back as he remembered his first day of school, people pointing and gasping and laughing at his bare, orange-furred torso...

"Please..." He whispered, voice quivering, "just leave me alone..."

"Hey! Let him go!!"

Everybody turned and looked, stunned, as the small blue space hedgehog stood defiantly before them, fists clenched and green eyes glaring at the humans.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Miles struggled in Cliff's grip, although the older teen hardly noticed, bewilderment plastered over his face.

"What.. the fuck is that?" The blond teen murmured, casting confused looks between Miles and Sonic.

"Dude, another one?!"

"What the fuck is this thing?!?"

The other two were equally confused by the appearance of the small blue alien. Miles continued to struggle in his captor's grasp, shooting a warning look to Sonic.

"Sonic!" He cried out, "Get out of here!!!"

"What the fuck is that thing, Wachowski?" Cliff glared at the fox-boy and gripped him roughly by the throat, angry eyes boring into his, "Another freak like you?!"

"I SAID LET HIM GO!!!"

Cliff cried out in shock as, like a small blue cannonball, Sonic boosted forward and smacked from his torso, knocking him off balance. Miles yelped as he was released, falling to the grass, and he frantically attempted to right himself as the fight began.

Sonic zipped around the other two teens like they were standing still, knocking them about, tripping them, while they blindly lunged out in clumsy attempts to grab him. It seemed there was no way they could even compete with the blue speedster... but ultimately, the hedgehog was untested in combat... and he found himself overpowered and struggling frantically as the three teenagers somehow managed to pin him.

"ARGH!!!" Cliff growled as he forced the hedgehog to the ground, Sonic thrashing with his limbs and squealing in fright as he fought back. "Hold it still so I can kill the little fucker!"

Miles watched in terror, time seeming to slow to a crawl, as Cliff stood and raised his boot, seemingly intent on stomping Sonic into oblivion.

Anger coursed through him as he scrambled to his feet, and his twin tails kicked into a spin.

Cliff screeched in shock as he was again bowled over, this time by a flash of orange. Miles slammed him to the ground, boosting back into the air with his tails before the older teen could recover, and directing a kick into Tony's face. The ginger teen screamed as he took a hiking boot to the cheek, and scrambled away.

"Sonic!" Miles cried as his friend was released, "Hold on to me!!"

Sonic, free of the humans' grasp, grinned and hopped into Miles' arms in a flash of blue. Below, the humans gawped up at the flying fox-boy, eyes wide in disbelief.

"You..." Cliff gasped, eyes bulging as Miles' tails spun in a whirlwind of crackling orange, "You can fucking _fly?!?_ "

Miles glowered down at his tormentor, and shot him a wicked, carnivorous grin as he gestured around the empty park with his free hand. "And who's gonna believe you?"

The older teens below remained still, dumfounded, before they began to fumble for their smart phones to record evidence of Miles' abilities... but by the time the first finger swiped the first screen, the flying fox-boy was gone, his hedgehog friend in tow.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"That was totally _radical!_ " Sonic cackled as he jumped up and down on Miles' bed, eyes wide and gleaming with excitement, "That was way past cool!!!"

Miles was shaking with nerves, but couldn't help but grin as his hedgehog friend bopped around the room. He was in deep trouble if Mom and Dad found out... but what were Cliff and the others going to say? They had no proof. And besides... it felt good to finally stand up to them. Miles had taken enough crap for his differences. 

"Did you see the look on their faces?!" The fox boy chuckled, "When they saw me flying?"

"Yeah!" Sonic chirruped, landing on his back and rebounding from the bed back onto his feet, "And did you see me?! I was like BAM! BAM! BAM!!!"

"Yeah..." Miles replied, setting himself down on the bed beside the hedgehog, "You sure were, little dude..."

"We make a great team!" Sonic jumped one last time and flopped onto his rump, smothered in his blue hoodie. "Sonic and Tails! Super best friends!!!"

"Uh, don't you mean Tails and Sonic?" Miles chuckled, wearing a mock-offended expression.

"Nuh-uh!" Sonic pouted, crossing his arms, "I'm the fastest!"

"I'm the oldest!"

"That's not fair!"

"Okay, okay!" Miles nudged his little friend playfully as Sonic protested, the hedgehog giggling as he batted away the teen's hand. "You get to be first, oh mighty Sonic!"

Sonic nuzzled into Miles' side, sinking into his hoodie some more, and looked down to the floor. In between the clutter of junk that typically carpeted the teen's bedroom, Sonic's crudely drawn picture of him with the Wachowski family lay, smiling up at them.

"Do you think your mom and dad will let me stay?" Sonic said timidly, looking up at the teen with worried green eyes.

"Yeah, dude..." Miles ruffled the hedgehog's head fur, scratting between Sonic's ears, "Course they will!"

"How long for?"

Miles wore a comforting smile, the side of his mouth morphing into a lopsided grin. "As long as you like!" The teen replied, squeezing Sonic around the shoulders with one arm.

The hedgehog snuggled further into Miles' side, and the fox-boy smiled to himself. The Wachowski brothers, Sonic and Tails. Had a nice ring to it.


End file.
